Book One: Bombs on Monday Morning
by ThePeriwinkleWitch
Summary: [This story has been revised on Wattpad. Please follow me there as well.] "You don't become a badass overnight. You gotta learn it." FemSS story. Named after one of my favorite songs by Melanie Martinez. Watch as Nora transforms herself from pre-war wife, mother, and lawyer to a pistol-whipping, sarcasm-loving disaster. (Rated M for foul language, violence, and a hint of smut.)
1. Ch 1: The Brightest Time

**Chapter 1**

 **The Brightest Time**

* * *

"Be careful on your way, Nora," my husband told me as I pinned my very long, blonde hair up in a messy bun on top of my head. He got comfortable on the couch and turned on the television to the news channel.

"I'll be fine, Nate. You just enjoy your day off."

"I worry about you, that's all." He eyed my gigantic baby bump.

"I'm pregnant, not cripple." I smoothed out my pale yellow dress and resituated my left high heel so that it wasn't digging into the back of my foot. "Penny and I will be back in a few hours."

"You still going to see that movie tonight?"

"Yes. Maybe we'll get something to eat. Want me to bring you something back?"

"A hamburger and some fries would be good."

"You got it."

I grabbed my handbag and threw it over my shoulder. I glided over to my husband – positioned lazily on the couch and watching television – to give him a kiss. He accepted a quick peck on the lips before returning his attention to his show. I rolled my eyes at him and grabbed the car keys from the key hanger next to the door and my coat from the coat rack.

The September air chilled me. I threw my bag into the passenger seat and started up the engine. The seat belt was uncomfortable around my large stomach, but I made it work. I waved at my neighbors as I slowly backed out of the driveway. Ms. Rosa and her _delightful_ brat across the street were arguing over whether he should be riding his bike in the road or not. Rosa had been restoring an old Corvega in the driveway for a while now with her son. Her husband died not long ago, and originally started the project. I felt sorry for her. I didn't know what I would have done if my husband died. Motherhood was hard enough to imagine _with_ a spouse. Without one seemed almost impossible.

Mr. And Mrs. Sumner were out in their garden again. They waved at me as I got into the car. I smiled and waved back at them. They were a nice couple and great neighbors. They were excited to meet the new baby once he was born.

Careful not to bump anyone or anything on my way out, I moved the car at a slow five miles per hour until I finally made it over the bridge at the river. Boston was bustling with people already. I stopped at a little cafe and met up with my friend, Penny Jenkins, whose husband was still away overseas.

I did my best to keep Penny company, seeing as how I was on maternity leave and my husband was away from home often as well. Being a military family wasn't exactly easy.

I found Penny sitting at the usual booth in the middle section of the wall. It was the seat under the window. She was reading a gossipy magazine and sipping her cappucinno. When I arrived at the booth, she didn't take her eyes off of the magazine.

"What are you reading about?" I asked.

"Oh, my gosh, you wouldn't believe."

 _Celebraties and their personal lives, no doubt._ "Don't bother telling me. I don't keep up with that stuff anyway."

She closed her magazine and laid it aside on the table. "You should. Reading about the misfortune of others is always entertaining."

I arched an eyebrow. "Better the misfortune of upper class than the misfortune of middle and lower class. At least upper class citizens have the money to pay for their problems." I reached for her drink.

She lightly slapped my hand. "Hey, get your own!"

I laughed and waved a waitress to our table. She greeted us with a smile. She couldn't have been more than seventeen, with silky black hair put up in a bow and a perfectly white smile. Her face was decorated with a light layer of foundation and blush and red lipstick.

"What can I get for you today?"

"I'd like an iced coffee. Decaf, please."

She jotted my order down on paper. "Will that be all, ma'am?"

"Oh, and a raspberry filled donut."

She wrote it down, as well. "Okay, that'll be just a few minutes, ma'am. They're making fresh donuts right now."

"Thank you." As she walked away, I looked back at Penny. "Oh, sweet God in Heaven. He must have known I was coming today. They're. Making. _Fresh. Donuts_." I could almost scream hallellujia.

"Nora, you should watch what you eat."

"I've been watching what I eat for eight months. I think I deserve a little something. I'm ready to drop this baby any day now."

"Maybe so, but you want to get your figure back after you have the baby, don't you?"

Penny was always the shallow type, as was about eighty percent of our society. Perfect figure, perfect hair, perfect face, perfect lifestyle. That's what was to be expected of women. I could care less about my figure; I enjoyed food. I had a somewhat high metabolism, so I didn't have to watch what I ate as much as Penny did. Penny could so much as _smell_ chocolate and gain two pounds.

But, no. I didn't care how much I ate, what the 'norm' was, what people thought of me, or the latest gossip. In fact, I usually didn't care about what people thought of me outside of work. The only reason I cared about that was the fact that appearance and presentation was everything in court. As a lawyer, you had to defend your client and make people believe you.

I hated my job. I didn't see myself as a lawyer, but . . . parents always seem to have a plan for their children. I went through with law school because my father paid for everything. I left him and my mother back in Louisianna when Nate and I got married and moved out here to Concord. He was stationed at the east coast.

The waitress returned with my coffee and a straw. "Here you are, ma'am. Your donut will be ready shortly."

"Thanks, hon." I took the straw out of the paper and stuck it in my iced coffee. "She's fairly new. I haven't seen her in here before."

"She seems sweet," Penny said with disinterest.

"She does. Poor girl. Being a waitress at her age is rough, I'm sure."

I looked out the window and watched the cars go by as Penny finished up her magazine. I saw a Mister Handy bot cutting flowers by one of the shops in town. It reminded me of the conversation Nate and I had the other day. He had been talking me into getting one to help around the house after the baby was born. I wasn't sure of it, though. Robots have been known to glitch and go crazy. I didn't feel comfortable knowing that a robot's metalic appendages would be feeding and changing my baby. Still, I had promised Nate that I would think about it. I had to go back to work at some point.

The Mister Handy must have belonged to a shop owner and was under a business contract. That's the only way you could have robots outside of the home. Personal or business use was allowed with permits and such, but it wasn't like you could take your robots everywhere with you at all times like dogs on a leish or personal butlers.

The waitress returned with my donut and a piece of paper. I said thank you and wasted no time digging into the warm, gooey pastry. The paper was a bill. The amount came to roughly ten dollars. When we finished at the cafe, I left the waitress a five dollar tip, just because she probably needed the money.

Penny hopped in her car, and I followed her in mine to the drive-in. She wound up joining me in my car before the showing started. The movie was some chick-flick that I knew she was excited to see. She laughed and cried and threw popcorn everywhere as the movie played on her emotions.

After the movie, we stopped at a burger joint and got dinner. I remembered to get Nate's hamburger and fries 'to go' before we left the restaurant. On the sidewalk, Penny asked me a surprising question.

"What's wrong with you lately?"

"I didn't realize I was acting any different."

"You've been spacey all day."

I clutched the brown paper bag in my hand. "It's nothing. Just married life problems."

"You're afraid things are going to change with the new baby, aren't you?"

"Not exactly. I don't really want to talk about it."

"Okay, well . . . I won't make you. Just call me if you need someone to talk to. Ciao." She turned and hopped back in her car.

By the time I got to my car, she was already driving away. I didn't exactly lie. I would like to talk about it with somebody, but not necessarily with her. I loved her, but she was a gossip.

It had been a long time since I had felt connected with Nate. Ever since he found out I was pregnant, he had become unbearably clingy. Not the type of clingy you would expect a husband to be; he became like my personal life coach and doctor overnight. I found myself shamefully excited when he left for work. With him gone, I could watch TV, go for a walk, or eat whatever I wanted.

I haven't had a passionate kiss in months. Once my belly started to show, we almost stopped having sex completely. When we did, he made it extremely uncomfortable, trying to get around my stomach without putting too much weight or pressure on it. It became distracting and annoying.

I remember the day we first felt the baby kick. Nate was so shocked. I think, in that moment, it became very real to him that he was going to be a father. We decided on a name a few days after we heard it was going to be a boy. Shaun. We named the baby after Nate's great-great-grandfather, who proudly served in the army and became Nate's role model.

I was somewhat irritated about not being able to pick a name myself. I would have went with something more like Jude or Maxwell. Something sophisticated, yet unique.

Some days, I asked myself if I was sure he even loved me anymore.

By the time I got home, Nate had the porch light on, but had fallen asleep on the couch at some point. His food was still warm, so I shook him awake so he could eat.

"Wha- what?" he stuttered groggily.

"I'm home." I hung the keys by the door and placed his food on the counter. I took my coat off and slung it lazily over the back of the couch.

"Oh, hey, honey. How was the movie?"

"It was good. We had a good time."

"Well, I'm glad." He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Can you heat that up for me?" he asked after a moment, pointing to the bag on the counter.

I glanced at it from the kitchen chair. I had just taken my heels off of my sore feet. "It's still warm."

"But I want it _hot_."

"Can't you get it?"

He sighed. "I guess I could. It _is_ the burger and fries right?"

"Ye-e-es."

"Okay. Just making sure. You have a habit of getting your cravings and forgetting to pick up what I asked for."

 _I literally only did that one time._

He grabbed the bag, took the food out, flattened down the bag, and placed the food on top of it in the microwave. He set it to a minute.

I walked to the bedroom and threw my heels in the closet and changed into a night gown. I pulled the pins from my hair and shook it loose. My next stop was the bathroom sink where I picked up my brush and brushed the tangles from my hair. I cleaned off my makeup next, which was always the worst part for me. I went from supermodel to sickly-looking everytime I took off my makeup.

Shaun was kicking up a storm tonight. I wondered what had gotten into him. Something I ate, maybe? Either way, he was making it uncomfortable. It felt like he was practicing gymnastics in my stomach. _Can't wait for you to come out already,_ I thought.

I hopped on the bed in our room and flipped on the nightstand lamp. I had a book sitting there that I was reading. I flipped it open and picked up where I left off, tracing the lines with my book marker.

I heard Nate rustling the paper bag from his fast food. He wadded up the bag and threw it in the garbage can. He rummaged through the fridge for a moment. I heard glasses tinkling as they slightly hit together. He was making an awful lot of noise. It became difficult to read. Finally, he settled for a beer and joined me in bed. It was a lot harder to read with him looking over my shoulder, so I shut the book with my marker inside.

"Can I help you?" I asked with sudden annoyance.

"Whoa, why so hostile?" he asked, cracking open the beer bottle.

"Firstly, I don't want you to drink too much. You know how you get when you've had too many. Secondly, I'm trying to read and you're making it hard to concentrate."

He scoffed and left the bed. "I can't wait for you to have this baby. Maybe you'll stop being such a grouch," he said as he left the room.

I balled my hands up into fists and took deep breaths. I opened my book again and tried to concentrate on reading, but he just pissed me off. There was no point in trying to read now.

When Nate was at work, I usually read out loud to Shaun. He'd become really active after I started reading to him. It was amusing. Nate just didn't bother with things like that.

After listening to Nate watch TV in the livingroom for a while, I finally started trying to read again. I got about half a chapter in before I fell asleep with the book on my chest. I didn't remember Nate even getting in bed. When I woke up in the middle of the night, he was snoring loudly next to me. My book was in the floor and my arm was asleep, hanging off the bed. I wiggled it around to try to regain some feeling into it.

I had to pee really bad. I slipped off the bed and waddled my way to the bathroom. I was so sure that Shaun was sitting on my bladder. I wasn't sure I'd make it in time. Finally sitting down on the toilet was a relief. I was still drowsy, so it took me a few tries to reach for the toilet paper.

When I was done, I started walking to the kitchen to get a drink from the fridge.

Suddenly, I felt liquid running down my leg. _That's weird,_ I thought. _I'm sure I emptied my bladder._ I was embarrassed, to say the least, and reached for the paper towels on the counter. Then it hit me: my water broke.

 _Shit. Shit. Shit._

I tried rushing to the bedroom without making myself fall and shook Nate's arm.

"Nate. Wake up."

He snored louder.

"Nate, wake up!"

He still wasn't listening. The man could sleep through a tornado.

I grabbed my book from the floor and slapped him in the face with it. "NATE."

He jerked himself upright and muttered something incoherant.

"Nate, are you awake?"

"Yeah, what? What's wrong?"

"My water broke."

He was suddenly alert and throwing his clothes on. I grabbed a towel from the bathroom to take with me and put in the car so that I wouldn't get the seat all nasty. There was no way I was changing; I was going to the hospital in my night gown. I was already in a panic.

The contractions set in and I had to dialate to a certain degree before the doctors would even consider having me to actually push the baby out. After a painful wait, I could finally start pushing. I wanted to choke someone during the whole thing. I was ready to shoot Nate between the eyes for causing me so much pain.

However, after everything was said and done, I was ecstatic to see my little boy for the first time. He had my nose and my eyes, and his father's dark brown hair and tan skin tone. He was gorgeous. I fell in love all over again for the second time in my life. In that moment, he became my world.


	2. Ch 2: Monday Morning

**Chapter 2**

 **Monday Morning**

* * *

Taking care of a baby was hard and thankless work, but it was worth it. My baby boy was born happy and healthy and weighed 7 and a half pounds exactly. Now he's at ten pounds two months later and already learning how to use a pacifier. I decided to feed him formula instead of breastfeed him, because Nate seemed to think it was gross or something. I don't know. That, however, left me with the annoying task of emptying the milk out myself in the bathroom sink, which was sort of weird, and taking a pill that caused me to stop producing it.

Nate insisted on getting a Mister Handy bot to work around the house for us. I finally said yes, because he was going to do it with or without my permission anyway. He had been itching to spend his money on something expensive and shiny for a while now.

We ordered the Mister Handy, and he turned out to be a blessing. We called him Codsworth. He had a large, round frame made of shiny metal and a jet underneath that allowed him to hover above the ground. He had three sensors that served as his eyes, and they protruded from the top of his rounded body like a slug's eyes. He also had three long appendages. On the end of each appendage was a different tool. One was a grabber that served as his hand of sorts, so he could pick up and move items. One was a miniature flamethrower, to what purpose I wasn't sure. And the other was a buzz saw, used mostly on weeds and small trees during gardening. He had a hidden compartment on the back of his body that he could store a lot of different things in, including bottles of water, first aid, and keys.

Not only was he a babysitter, but he could cook and clean and garden for me. He was even better than a watchdog when it come to protecting the house. I didn't have a care in the world; I could prop my feet up and let Codsworth do all the hard work while I could enjoy the more comforting moments with Shaun, like holding him and rocking him to sleep and talking to him. I would have been able to go back to work without having to worry about being tired.

Codsworth had a distinct proper British accent and was very polite. I'm sure it was a part of his programming, but there were times where he could be a bit snarky and opinionated – mostly about the neighbors. He made me laugh. Eventually, he caught on to all the routines and goings-on around the house. He would be my listening ear when I was upset, and he could always keep a secret. I was beginning to worry for my own mental health, however, being such good friends with a robot.

One day in particular, Nate was at work, and Shaun was asleep. So it was just me and Codsworth in the living room. He hovered next to me as I watched TV. Two of his sensors were directed toward the TV, one focused on me, as it usually was. He would make comments every now and then about the show I was watching. It was some game show, nothing special. I didn't like watching the news like Nate did. It was too depressing; our economy was in such horrible shape. Codsworth made me hot chocolate to chase away the chill and he gossiped about the neighbors. Then Codsworth said, "I feel a great deal of affection for this family, mum," and we were best friends ever since.

A month later, Nate was at home with me. It was a crisp Monday morning in October, and the leaves were changing color. Little Shaun was already three months old. All the Halloween decorations were out in the neighborhood. I got out of bed and heard Nate in the bathroom taking a shower. I got dressed and met him in the bathroom, where he had already dried off and was fixing his hair in the mirror.

"War never changes," he mumbled as if rehearsing.

I grinned at him. "You're gonna knock 'em dead at the veterans hall tonight," I assured him.

"You think?"

"Absolutely. Now get ready and stop hogging the mirror."

"Alright."

I watched him fuss with his face and hair until he felt that he looked good enough to get dressed.

"My turn, big guy," I teased, side-stepping in front of him. I fixed my hair and makeup as usual. He dressed himself and returned to the bathroom, insisting that he needed to do one more thing.

"Hon," I objected.

"Why don't you see if breakfast is ready?"

I sighed and walked out of the bathroom. Codsworth stood in the kitchen with a coffee pot in one appendage. "Ah, good morning, Mum! Your coffee for you. One-hundred and seventy-three point five degrees Fahrenheit. Brewed to perfection."

"Thanks, Codsworth." I took the coffee pot from him and poured it into a mug he had set out for me; my favorite mug, to be exact.

"Of course, Mum!" He turned his attention back to the sink and started washing the dishes.

I rummaged through the fridge to see what there was to see. I was debating on doing grocery shopping. It was unbearably bare in there. We had a stock of Nuka Cola, milk, and Salisbury Steaks. I went back to my coffee mug and took a sip, taking notice of Nate's _Grognak the Barbarian_ comic that he left laying on the counter and smirked.

Nate entered the room and picked up the newspaper from the counter that Codsworth had brought in this morning.

Shaun started crying in his bedroom then.

"Ah, sounds like someone made a stinky," said Codsworth. "I shall tend to young Shaun." He made his way to Shaun's bedroom immediately.

Nate spoke. "I know we were nervous at first, but I'm glad we got Codsworth."

I smiled and looked over his shoulder to see the headlines of today's paper, the _Boston Bugle_. Nothing but rumors of bombs. _More of the same,_ I thought. The weather forecast was playing on the TV in the background. I absentmindedly watched the weather report and sipped on my coffee.

"We should take Codsworth to be serviced soon, don't you think?" Nate muttered behind me. "Ah, and it's almost Halloween. We need to finish making Shaun's costume . . ."

The crying stopped, but Codsworth was still in Shaun's room. "How's it going in there, Codsworth?" I called.

"Just fine, Mum! And don't you think about touching the laundry! Ha ha! I'll get that!"

I chuckled at him.

The doorbell rang suddenly.

Nate sighed. "It's that salesman again. I don't know why he keeps bothering you."

 _Me?_ I scoffed. _There's more than one adult living in this house . . ._

Since he obviously wanted me to get the door, I straightened my light blue button-up blouse and put my coffee mug on the counter. I opened the door, and sure enough, a salesperson stood there. He had a pale yellow hat and coat, and a red tie. His hair was borderline ginger and he had a huge smile on his face. He held a pen and clipboard in his hands.

"Good morning! Vault-Tec calling!" He tipped his hat.

"Go on," I said, humoring him.

"Nice to finally find you, ma'am. You can't begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you. I've been trying for days. It's a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you."

"The-e-en, I'm glad I opened the door," I smiled.

"Oh-ho, me too. You have no idea. Now, I know you're a busy woman, so I won't take up much of your time. Time being a precious commodity. I'm here today to tell you that because of your family's service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance into the local vault! Vault 111!"

This piqued my interest. "Sounds . . . great."

"Oh, it is, believe you me. Now, you're already cleared for entrance, in the unforeseen event of, ahem, total atomic inhialation. I just need to verify some information, that's all."

"Tell me more about this vault."

"Oh, it has all the amenities of a modern home, I assure you. Not to mention total protection from nuclear radiation and hostile mutants. 'A Better Future Underground.' It's not only our mission, it's our passion."

Now it was just starting to sound like that bullshit on the news. "The apocalypse? Well, Hell, sign me up!" I stifled a laugh.

He laughed awkwardly. "That's the spirit, heh. Now, let's see . . ."

He proceeded to ask me questions about my weight, height, diet, and other things, like if I wore glasses or contact lenses, was currently on any medication, etcetera. He asked me my occupation, my full name, my husband's full name, and my child's full name. He also asked me if I had any disabilities or bad habits, such as smoking or drinking. I went along with it all, giving him our information. I mean, I didn't believe we were on the brink of the end of the world, but this vault thing sounded like a good idea for just-in-case purposes. And as far as I knew, it was free. The only thing I didn't like was that we weren't allowed to take our robot with us.

"Wonderful! That's everything . . . Just gonna walk this over to the Vault!" He awkwardly backed out of the doorway. "Congratulations on being prepared for the future!"

As he rushed down the sidewalk, I called after him, "Um . . . Thanks again . . ." I shut the door and locked it.

"Hey," said Nate from the couch, "it's peace of mind. That's worth a little paperwork, right?"

I gave him a half smile. "For you and Shaun, no price is too high."

"Good answer."

"I have my moments," I sat with him on the couch.

Shaun started crying again from his room.

Codsworth entered the living room. "Mum, Shaun has been changed, but he absolutely refuses to calm down. I think he needs some of that 'maternal affection' you seem to be so good at."

"Go ahead, honey," Nate said with his nose in the TV. "I'll be there in a second to help."

I got back up and walked to Shaun's room. "Hey, little guy," I said to the crying baby, rubbing his belly with the palm of my hand. His crying subsided and he cooed with pleasure.

After a few moments, Nate appeared in the doorway. "My boy isn't giving his mother any trouble, is he? Hey, I just fixed that mobile on his crib the other day. Why don't you give it a spin?"

I spun the mobile over Shaun's head that had three red and white rocket ships on it. He giggled with excitement as it played a lullaby.

"That's my boy," Nate said. "On his best behavior, just like his dad. Well, most of the time, anyway . . ." Nate turned his attention toward me and suddenly got a spark in his eye. "Listen, after breakfast, I was thinking we could head to the park for a bit. Weather should hold up."

I was surprised. It had been a while since he wanted to go anywhere. I felt like ever since we had Shaun, we had re-entered our honeymoon phase or something.

I wanted to suggest something more adventurous. "Let's get some pumpkins instead. Carve Jack-o-Lanterns!" I was getting excited, myself.

Codsworth called from the living room with concern in his robotic voice. "Sir! Mum! You should come and see this!"

"Codsworth? What's wrong?" Nate answered.

We made our way to the living room with haste. I took Shaun in my arms before leaving the room. Codsworth had turned the TV up for us to hear.

The news anchor sounded very upset, which was unlike anything I usually saw on the news. Most anchors were very collected. I rocked Shaun in my arms but he cried for his daddy, so I handed him to Nate. Nate cradled him against his chest.

"Followed by . . . yes, followed by flashes, blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions . . . We're . . . we're trying to get confirmation . . ." There was a pause. "We seem to have lost contact with all our stations."

"What did he say?" asked Nate with disbelief.

"Oh no . . ." I breathed. I didn't want to think about what was going on.

The news anchor went on. "We do – we do have . . . coming in . . . confirmed reports . . . I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania. My God . . ." The news anchor covered his face with one hand, at a loss, his own realization sinking in.

"Oh, my God . . ." Nate held Shaun close to him.

"We need to get to the vault. Now!"

"I've got Shaun! Let's go!"

I called over my shoulder. "Codsworth . . . be safe!"

"You as well, Mum! Oh, dear . . ."

We sprang out the door. As soon as we did, alarms started going off outside from what sounded like all directions. We left poor Codsworth in the house. It was total chaos outside in an instant. The townspeople were fleeing. There were armed soldiers outside on the sidewalk and aircraft overhead. Did they know it was coming before we did?

"Residents of Sanctuary Hills," said a man over a loudspeaker. "If you are registered, evacuate to Vault 111 immediately!"

Shaun started bawling due to the quick, bouncing movements of Nate running with him in his arms. He was obviously scared by all the loud noises.

Nate held him closer to his chest. "Hold on, little guy! Hold on . . . !"

Vault registered or not, everyone in town was running toward the direction of the vault. Everyone crowded around the gates, hoping that the personnel there would take pity on them and have mercy. They were wrong. Only the people on the list were allowed inside the vault. The horrifying reality that their time was running short struck me and churned my stomach.

"That's absurd!" yelled a familiar voice at the gate. It was the salesman from just half an hour ago. "I _am_ Vault-Tec!"

"You're not on the list. You don't get in." The soldier at the gate crossed his arms.

"I'm going in. You can't stop me."

A soldier from behind him pulled a gun on him, and everyone started freaking out.

"Whoa, whoa!" The salesman held up his hands. "Okay, okay!" He turned to run away. "I'm reporting this!" he shouted as he gained distance.

The soldier at the gate announced to the crowd of people, "If you're in the program, step forward. Otherwise, return home!"

I pushed past the people and addressed the soldier. "We need to get in! We're on the list!"

He checked his papers. "Name, please."

"Nora Isham. My husband is Nate Isham, and our son is Shaun Isham. Please, hurry!" It was appalling to me how all the soldiers so calmly took their time.

"Okay, go ahead." He motioned us through.

"Thank you!" Nate cried.

"Good luck, sir."

In the background, a woman screamed, "We're going to die out here!" I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as we ran for safety and left everyone else behind.

"You two, follow me! Come on!" A soldier led us to the vault entrance.

"What's going to happen to all those people outside the gate?" Nate asked.

"We're doing everything we can, now keep moving!"

We ran up to a gear-shaped platform that was painted blue, grey, and yellow. There were already a few other people there from our town. Others I didn't recognize. Perhaps they were from Quincy. Maybe even from Boston.

"Step on the platform, in the center!" called a soldier.

"Almost there," I said with relief. "Is Shaun okay?"

"He's fine. We're gonna be okay." Nate looked me in the eyes. "I love you."

Before I could say it back, a nuclear explosion went off mere miles south of our town. An orange mushroom cloud lit up the sky. It was massive; the deadliest, most incredible thing I'd ever seen. We screamed and panicked, but none of us dared run, not when we were so close to safety.

A soldier was yelling to another who stood inside a small operating room where the large lever controlling the vault's entrance was contained. "NOW! NOW! SEND IT DOWN NOW!"

"Hold on!" I yelled to my husband who clutched our baby tightly to his chest.

The floor beneath us started to move. It gave way and we started descending into the vault. It felt like it was taking an eternity. The explosion was sending a wave of desolation through the distant trees, and it was only a matter of seconds before it reached us.

"Can't this thing move any faster?!" yelled Mr. Whitfield in front of me.

His wife went into a panic as our heads finally reached the edge of the entrance. "Oh god oh god oh god oh god . . ."

There was a "whoosh" of air over our heads. You could almost feel the power of the bomb first hand as the force barely missed us. In that moment, as the vault entrance closed over our heads, I knew that everyone standing outside – the soldiers, my neighbors – was dead.


	3. Ch 3: Time in a Bottle

**Chapter 3**

 **Time in a Bottle**

* * *

Everything went almost dark on the elevator ride below. It took several seconds to reach the end. When we finally stopped, all was quiet.

Nate whispered, "We did it," with a look of astonishment on his face. "We made it. We're okay."

I laced my fingers together and looked up above in a silent prayer, thanking God that we were alive.

A man in a lab coat in front of us asked us to step off the elevator as the gates around it opened up. "Welcome. I am the Overseer. Everyone please step off the elevator and proceed up the stairs in an orderly fashion. No need to worry, folks. We'll get everyone situated in your new home. Vault 111 – a better future underground."

Some of us were crying, some of us were calmed down by now. I, personally, found myself in something like a trance. Was any of this really happening? Was this all a dream?

Mr. Russel spoke up. "So . . . we just . . . ?"

"Yes," replied the Overseer. "Up the stairs."

"I can't believe it . . ." Mr. Able mumbled. "If we had left a minute later . . . we'd all be . . ."

"No, no!" The Overseer waved his hands. "Don't get caught up thinking about all that. You're safe now. Everyone just head up these stairs, and through the door there."

I rested my hand on my husband's arm. Nate and I walked side by side with Shaun in his arms up the stairs. A few people were ahead of us, the rest followed us.

A robotic female voice sounded over the loudspeakers above us as we made our way up the stairs. "Vault-Tec is here for you. All new residents please proceed in an orderly fashion. Welcome home!"

Vault-Tec operatives in blue and yellow jumpsuits mumbled to themselves as they fiddled with their machinery and high-tech screens. Every operative we passed said something different, like "male" or "female." One said, "readings look good . . ." One in front of us motioned a few people to the table to our right, where another operative was handing out jumpsuits of the same kind to the new arrivals.

I stepped up first when it was our turn. Nate was right behind me. I stepped over to the table, and the nice lady there handed me a suit and told me to head straight down the hall. Nate took his and followed me.

"Alright, you three. Follow me," said a gray-haired doctor at the hall.

Shaun started cooing in Nate's arms.

"See? This is our new home . . ." Nate whispered to Shaun.

The doctor spoke up as we walked. "Oh, you're going to love it here. This is one of our most advanced facilities. Not that the others aren't great, mind you . . ."

"How long do you think we'll be down here?" Nate asked.

"Oh, we'll be going over all that in orientation. Just a few medical items we have to get through first."

Inside the vault, it looked less like a housing facility and more like a laboratory. The walls were made of metal, and the door frames were thick, white plastic arches with large metal screws holding them in place. You could see the pipes on the walls that supplied the vault's water and oxygen. There were metal and plastic boxes and containers littering the sides of the hallway as if they hadn't even finished unpacking the essentials. Everything looked strange. They made it sound like it was an underground five-star hotel when they advertised it.

We finally came to the end of the hall where a large room awaited us. It was considerably chillier than the rest of the vault so far. Inside were large chambers that lined the wall. Pipes and electric wiring connected to the back in a tangled heap of each chamber. A fine, white mist surrounded us inside the room.

A staff member was checking everyone off his list as we entered. We walked down a small stairway, about four steps total, and my hand grazed the railing. It was ice cold and covered in a thin layer of moisture like the room was sweating. I could almost see my breath.

Nate and I exchanged confused glances.

Another doctor, female with dark hair up in a bun, was assuring a few of the other newcomers inside that the vault suits were meant to be fashionable as well as comfortable. A few others were already changing into their vault suits where everyone could see. I found this slightly brazen and averted my eyes from their half-naked bodies. Surely they didn't expect us to do the same?

The doctor spoke too soon. "Just step in here and put your vault suit on."

 _Shit._

Nate and I took turns holding Shaun while we suited up. He protectively covered me with his body by standing in front of me while I changed. I didn't dare take my bra off. Once the suits were on, Shaun desperately cried for Nate to hold him again. _What a daddy's boy,_ I thought.

Shaun was still kicking in Nate's arms. "It's okay. Mommy's right here. See? Uh, honey. He's being fussy. Could you . . . ?"

I rubbed Shaun's tiny head with the palm of my hand. "Who's my little guy?" I smiled warmly. "I'm not going far. I'll just be over there." _He's probably hungry; it's been a few hours._

"There she is, see?" He tried to further comfort the squabbling child. I walked over to one of the chambers and peered inside. It looked like a chair of some sort. It felt cool to the touch, and the seat was made of a pale faux leather. There was only room for one person to sit inside. Nate and I would have to sit in separate chambers. But what were they for?

The doctor urged me with a nod and a reassuring smile to sit in the chair, so I hesitantly hoisted myself up and took a seat. Nate sat in the chamber across from me with Shaun.

The doctor spoke again as the large metal door over the opening closed on the chambers. There was a little window on the front that I could see out of. "The pod will decontaminate and depressurize you before we head deeper in the Vault. Just relax."

I sighed, trying to do as he said, but it was all so strange. I felt like I was in an alien world. I took a deep breath to steady myself. "Time for a whole new life . . ."

Nate and I waved at each other and smiled from our pods. I wondered how long the decontamination process was going to take.

"Resident secure," said the robotic female voice again overhead. "Occupant vitals: normal. Procedure complete."

 _Well, that didn't take long at all._

"In 5 . . . 4 . . ."

 _Wait, what?_

"3 . . . 2 . . ."

The pod got insanely cold. My fingers went numb within seconds. My breathing slowed to a halt. I would have panicked, but I didn't have time. My body was frozen, and I slowly began to lose consciousness.

"1 . . ."

The window on my pod iced over, and I couldn't see Nate or Shaun anymore. Then, I entered an almost dream-like state.

* * *

A hissing sound. What was it?

My breathing started slow, and then came faster. I was awake again. The pod was depressurizing and there was a slight warmth to the air. It felt good to let my lungs stretch, as if I hadn't used them in ages. However, my breathing became strained, like I had forgotten how to use them for a moment. My arms were stuck to the chair. I had to wriggle them free, but I was weak.

"Manual override initiated. Cryogenic stasis suspended."

I was so cold. My breath was visible inside my pod.

I could finally see Nate and Shaun across from me in their pod as the ice started to melt from my window. A figure in a white hazmat suit of some sorts pointed to Nate's pod.

"This is the one," she said.

Another figure, a balding man in strange clothes, answered in a gruff voice, "Open it."

Who were they?

The door to his pod slowly lifted open, knocking bits of thin ice off the edges of the door. Shaun instantly started crying. He must have been so cold. My poor baby.

Nate coughed. "Is it over? Are we okay?" He sounded slightly disoriented.

The figure in white was reaching for my baby. _What the hell?_

"Almost," said the man. "Everything's going to be fine."

"Come here . . . come here, baby . . ." The figure in white talked in a soothing voice so as to not disrupt my baby. She slowly reached for Shaun and coaxed Nate to give him to her, but he wasn't having it.

"No, wait." He started to panic. "No, I've got him!"

My breathing came fast, my heart pounding.

The man pointed a gun at my husband. "Let the boy go. I'm only gonna tell you once!"

"I'm not giving you Shaun!"

BANG.

The woman yanked Shaun out of Nate's arms. Nate lay dead in his pod, his head knocked back from the force of the man's bullet. His blood splattered against the inside of the pod.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to shove the door open. But I was so weak. Horror rendered me absolutely helpless.

"Goddammit! Get the kid out of here, and let's go . . ." The man walked up to my pod now. Was I next? I could feel my body shaking. He was a balding white man with a scar across his right eye, from his forehead down to his cheek. He had gray hair, almost shaved down to his scalp. His dark eyes peered in at me. "At least we still have the backup . . ."

 _Backup?_

The white figure walked off with my baby and the man followed her.

The computer voice again. "Cryogenic sequence reinitialized."

 _No. Not again. Please._

The cold filled my chamber once more, and I could no longer move my body. I returned to my dream-like state.

* * *

I gasped for air and my head swam like I had been underwater too long. My vision started to return for the second time. It felt like mere seconds had passed since I had entered the vault. So much had happened in such a small amount of time.

Gasping and choking for air, I realized I could finally move my body again. Having full control over my muscles, I pounded against the door of the pod. I tried to get out of my seat as the door opened, but wound up falling out instead, landing on the floor in a heap. I had less strength than I thought.

"Critical failure in Cryogenic Array," said the robotic female voice. "All Vault residents must vacate immediately."

I looked around me. Only my pod had opened. There were no operatives or doctors or assistants to be found. Who opened my pod?

I scrambled to my feet and reached for the control panel on Nate's pod. It couldn't be true. I had to have been dreaming the whole thing up.

 _A nightmare. That's right, I must have fallen asleep in there during the decontamination process and had a nightmare. When I open his pod, he'll be alright._

The pod was taking a century to open. "Come on, come on, _come on_. Oh, _God_ . . ."

To my horror, Nate was really dead. I couldn't deny it any further. Someone killed my husband and kidnapped my baby boy. Waves of emotion went through me – all of the stages of grief and a lot of rage. Finally, all I could feel was the insatiable need for revenge. I slipped Nate's wedding ring off of his finger. At least I could take a piece of him with me.

"I'll find who did this," I hissed, "and I'll get Shaun back. I promise." I kissed his frozen hand gently. It almost didn't feel real, like a mannequin. I closed the pod's door as if shutting the lid to his coffin.

When I found that I had the strength, I searched the room for my way out. I glanced inside the pods and realized that everyone else . . . was dead. They didn't survive the cryostasis. All of them. Mr. and Mrs. Whitfield, Mr. Russel, everyone from Sanctuary Hills. Was I really the only one left? Where was the staff? I reached for the button on the exit door and the hallway was in full view in front of me.

Was this really the same hallway? There were old water stains on the floor from leaks on the pipes, dust accumulated on the tops of a few boxes left laying on the side against the walls. A faint smell of must filled my nostrils. It was eerily quiet.

A door to my left led to another chamber filled with pods. I looked away quickly. I didn't want to see any more dead people. I coughed again, trying not to throw up. The door ahead of me read "exit zone – authorized personnel only." When I tried to open it, it wouldn't work.

"Malfunction in emergency exit door. Please contact your Vault-Tec maintenance representative for service." said the female robot voice.

"Busted," I muttered.

I went through the door with all the pods in it after all. I averted my eyes from all the bodies, but I felt almost like they were watching me. My nerves were finally starting to send me over the edge. All this chaos, and then to find myself all alone underground with the dead.

There was a computer terminal on the far wall. I looked through the on-screen menu and clicked on "pod occupant status." It listed all the people that came into the vault and their location. On each name that I clicked, it said the same information. "Occupant Status: deceased. Cause of death: asphyxiation due to Life Support failure."

It didn't make any sense. If life support failed, why was I the only one alive? Shouldn't I be dead, too?

I went back to the menu and selected the Cryogenic Array option. "Offline. Premature termination resulting in system failure. Isolated manual and remote overrides detected. Controls disabled."

It almost sounded like just a jumble of big words at first. After re-reading it a second time, I basically put it into more simpler terms; someone manually shut down life support from a remote location and disabled the controls inside the vault.

I got chills all over. Someone killed everyone but me, on purpose. Was I being watched?

I quickly left the terminal and started searching for another way out. My heart beat frantically in my chest. I finally found another door. I raced down the small set of stairs and took a right turn. On the other side of the hall I had entered was a long window where I could see the inside of the next room. On the window was a large scurrying animal. It almost looked like . . . a cockroach.

My breathing escalated and I looked for something, anything, to protect myself with. In a small closet, I searched the desk and found a stimpak and a terminal, but no weapon. I quickly checked the terminal to see if I could find a map of the area, or an override button or something. The menu only showed security instructions, operations protocol manual, and security logs.

I tried my luck with the security instructions.

"CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL CONFIDENTIAL

"SECURITY EYES ONLY | VIOLATION VTP-01011

"Vault 111 is designed to test the long-term effects of suspended animation on unaware human subjects. Security staff are responsible for maintaining installation integrity and monitoring science staff activity.

"Under no circumstances are staff allowed to deviate from assigned duties. Insubordination or interference with vault operations are capital offenses. Security staff are authorized to use lethal force."

 _. . . What? We were like . . . lab rats?_

I tried the operations protocol manual next. I was letting my curiosity – and my horror – get the better of me now. I needed answers.

The next menu was residence admittance, staff duties, and "all clear & evacuation." Nothing but the "all clear & evacuation" interested me, so I checked it out next. The next options were the evacuation method and the mandatory shelter period. I chose the shelter period. How long did they intend to keep us suspended?

"Vault 111 is classified as a short-term assignment. Non-resident personnel are expected to carry out research duties and basic maintenance of the Vault while awaiting the All-Clear signal to evacuate.

"In the absence of an All-Clear message from Vault-Tec, the Overseer may elect to evacuate staff after a mandatory shelter period of 180 days of containment. Under no circumstance may Vault 111 staff evacuate during this shelter period, unless receiving the All-Clear message from Vault-Tec."

How could someone get away with something like this? I went back to the main menu and selected the security logs. What did the security staff member have to say about this? Surely no one would be okay with this. The security member that wrote the entries listed entries for October 23, December 25, March 14, April 23, and then an unknown date listed as "last entry." I skipped to the last one.

"LAST ENTRY

"No All-Clear from Vault-Tec is coming. We need to leave. We're all but out of food. I almost murdered Stanley for dropping a damn salt cracker on the floor.

"A handful of us confronted the Overseer about opening up the Vault. I never knew a man that small could shout that loud. Now he's locked himself in his office along with the rest of the science staff. We're supposed to hand over any food, weapons, and medicine we have by tonight, or there's "going to be consequences."

"I've talked to everyone. It's time. One way or another, we're getting out of this vault."

 _What is is this – this . . . insanity?_

I almost lost sight of what was important. I jumped up from the office chair and continued my search for a weapon. If the Vault-Tec employees were still around somewhere inside the vault, they might have been crazy enough to come for me and kill me with their bare hands.

Since I didn't find anything useful, I left the small room and opened the next door. Another hallway. I opened yet another door. Finally, there on a metallic table was a security baton. I grabbed it, only to find that a giant but was sitting on the floor adjacent to it.

I screeched a horrific high-pitched noise and lunged at my feet. Was it trying to bite me? I swatted at it with the baton. It didn't put up much of a fight, and it's insides splattered all over the floor. After further inspection, I realized that it was, in fact, a cockroach. Bile was building up in the back of my throat.

"Giant roaches? What the Hell . . ."

Panting and disoriented, I searched further for something useful. I kept my guard up in case something else wanted to jump out at me. Was this all just one big nightmare? There was no way there were giant bugs. In the next room only sat a terminal, unoccupied office chairs and overturned mugs. At the terminal, I clicked on "Overseer Memo."

"Remember, use of the recreational terminal is a privilege. If work performance declines, this privilege may be revoked."

Other than that, there was nothing useful – just a computer game called the Red Menace and top ten scores.

I relieved myself at a nearby bathroom and continued my search for another exit. Nothing but empty, dust-covered rooms everywhere. Finally, I came across an interesting room with a malfunctioning pylon. I steered clear of it so I wouldn't get zapped by the electricity, swatting at giant roaches as I went. A part of me believed that these roaches were just imaginary; a figment of my imagination in a state of disoriented panic. Nothing a psychiatrist couldn't fix – after a police report.

On the floor past the next door was a skeleton in a Vault 111 jumpsuit. It was a literal skeleton with bleached bones and everything. How long was I in there? It was long enough for the body to completely decompose at least.

"What happened here? Where is everyone?" I was experiencing one horror after the next. It was like I was floating now. My fingers and toes were going numb. I fought off the feeling of fainting and continued on through the door.

More giant roaches attacking my appendages. I swung at them violently in a wide-eyed panic. I rushed to the next door. I came to the Overseer's office. On the desk there laid a gun. I grabbed for it and shoved the bullets inside. I didn't know much about guns, but I at least knew how to load one.

There on the floor was the Overseer's body.

"Is this all that's left?" I breathed.

In the closet across the room, I rummaged through it's belongings and took everything that was useful. Ammo and an extra pistol were laying on the shelf. There in a clear Plexiglas case was a gun like nothing I had ever seen before. It was labeled "Cryolator Case – prototype." As interesting as it was, I didn't dwell on it. The case was locked, so I left it.

There was nothing of further use to me, so I checked the terminal on the Overseer's desk and opened the door across the room with remote access. I practiced with my gun on the giant roaches climbing on the walls and the floor down the hall. I wasn't a very good shot, but I wasn't worried; I had picked up more than enough bullets for these disgusting bastards.

I tiptoed over the meat and guts of the roaches so I didn't step in them and made my way through door after door until I finally came to the main room where the exit was. I breathed a sigh of relief for a moment until I saw more skeletons littering the floor.

"Is anyone alive? Did anyone get out?"

I tried to access the big, red button on the control panel but it wouldn't let me. It remained encased in its clear case, mocking me.

The robotic, female voice spoke overhead again. "Pip-Boy interface required to activate Vault door cycling sequence. Have a nice day."

 _Pip-Boy? Those portable computers everyone was raving about on TV a few months before?_

I had never seen one up close before – only on TV. I looked around the room to see if I could find one. There at my feet was the skeletal remains of a Vault-Tec doctor from the looks of his lab coat. His arm was lying separately on the floor next to him. I reached down with hesitation and grabbed the pip-boy. The skeletal arm slid out of the portable computer and clattered to the floor.

I checked it over. It should fit my wrist perfectly. I latched it onto my left arm and turned it on. The screen needed to be rubbed clean before I could see anything on it. After it loaded, I plugged the pip-boy into the vault's control panel. The case over the big, red button finally opened and allowed me to mash it down.

There was a loud hissing noise and an alarm that went off. Yellow lights circulated around the room. There was a small metal bridge that pulled out and extended in front of me as if welcoming me to the exit. My heart soared. I could see the white light at the entrance. The gate slowly opened at the vault elevator.

I hopped onto it, and it guided me back up through the earth.

"Enjoy your return to the surface. And thank you for choosing Vault-Tec."


	4. Ch 4: Crawl Out Through the Fallout

**Chapter 4**

 **Crawl Out Through the Fallout**

* * *

The light was blinding. There was something stifling about the air. It was chilly outside. I could feel the sun on my face. It took my eyes a moment to adjust, but I was finally able to get a good look at my surroundings.

Everything was dead. No leaves on the trees. No green grass. Ruin lie in every direction. It was overwhelming to say the least. The sorrow overtook me. The tears were coming like a flood. My home was destroyed. My child was gone. I left my husband below, in that crypt. I had no idea if I was the last person alive. No words could describe the feelings I felt.

With shaky legs, I made my way down the hillside and back into Sanctuary Hills. Everything was so quiet. Every now and then, I would hear a crow cawing nearby. When I caught sight of the bird responsible for the noise, I had to double take. It didn't look like a crow at all. Some kind of ugly, mutated bird. It was almost as shocking as the giant cockroaches.

I walked to my home. It was still standing, sort of. All that was left of it was the frame and some of the siding. The ceiling had all but collapsed, leaving room for rainwater to fall through the holes with ease and flood the molded floor. The flowers were dead and my car was totally fucked. Only the frame was left, and it was completely rusted.

 _Did the bomb do all of this?_

There by the dead shrubbery was a familiar and heartwarming sight. Codsworth was loyally trimming the bushes in the front yard. He looked like shit, what with the rust marks and kinks, but he wasn't having any trouble getting around as usual. He was humming merrily to himself.

One of his sensors caught sight of me, then all three turned in my direction. "As I live and breathe!" he cried. "It's . . . it's REALLY you!"

"Codsworth! You're . . . still here. So . . . other people could still be alive, too."

"Well, of course I'm still here. Surely you don't think a little radiation could deter the pride of General Atomics International? But you seem the worse for wear. Best not let the hubby see you in that state. Where is sir, by the way?"

It all rushed back to me in no time. My happiness was short lived. "They came into the vault . . . Maybe you saw them? They had guns . . . and strange outfits?"

"Only Ms. Rosa's boy, running around in his Halloween costume, more than a week early. I swear, the nerve of that woman leaving her brat unsupervised. Not like you, mum. You're the perfect mother. And sir is . . . oh, where is sir, by the by?"

"He's . . . in a better place." At least I prayed he was. I was a moderately religious woman.

"Mum . . . these things you're saying. These . . . terrible things . . . I . . . I believe you need a distraction. Yes! A distraction, to calm this dire mood. It's been ages since we've had a proper family activity. Checkers. Or perhaps charades. Shaun does so love that game. Is the lad . . . with you . . . ?"

"Codsworth . . . listen to me carefully . . . have you seen him? Have you seen Shaun?"

"Why, sir had him last, remember? Perhaps he's gone to the Parker residence to arrange a play-date? I'm sure he'll be back with him momentarily."

"It doesn't make sense. There's just no reason someone would take my baby . . ."

"It's worse than I thought. Hmm hmm. You're suffering from . . . hunger-induced paranoia. Not eating properly for two-hundred years will do that, I'm afraid."

Another wave of shock hit me. I had thought maybe we had at least been in cryostasis for two years or so. But two-hundred? "Two-hundred years? What? Are you . . . sure?"

"A bit over two-hundred and ten actually, mum. Give or take a little for the Earth's rotation and some minor dings to the ole' chronometer. That means you're two centuries late for dinner! Ha ha ha. Perhaps I can whip you up a snack? You must be famished."

Although he was a robot, and robots could be weird sometimes, Codsworth was of the intelligent sort. He was acting more or less oblivious to the gravity of the situation. It was highly unlike him. I wasn't sure he was okay after all. The last thing I needed was for him to be malfunctioning. Without him, I'd be all alone for sure.

"Codsworth, you're acting . . . a little bit weird. What's wrong?"

"I . . . I . . ." His voice started to become shaky and riddled with emotion. "Oh, mum, it's been just horrible! Two centuries with no one to talk to, no one to serve. I spent the first ten years trying to keep the floors waxed, but nothing gets out nuclear fallout from vinyl wood! Nothing! And don't get me started about the futility of dusting a collapsed house. And the car! The car! How do you polish rust?!"

"Calm down, Codsworth. What do you know?"

"I'm afraid I don't know anything, mum. The bombs came, and all of you left in such a hurry. I thought for certain you and your family were . . . dead." Codsworth reached with one of his appendages into a compartment on his back. "I did find this holotape. I believe sir was going to present it to you as a surprise. But then, well . . . everything happened."

I took it from him. "A holotape? What's on it?"

"I believe it's a private message for you. My etiquette protocols would not permit me to play it for myself. Any standard holotape reading device should be able to play it back. Oh, like that pip-boy on your arm. That should work brilliantly. Now, enough feeling sorry for myself. Shall we search the neighborhood together? Sir and young Shaun may turn up yet."

"Have you seen anything dangerous?"

"Oh, just the usual, mum. Pesky neighborhood dogs and mosquitoes. Shall I investigate?"

Codsworth was much more equipped to take out any hostiles than I was, so I allowed him to lead the way. I followed him around the neighborhood, humoring him. He would see for himself that Nate and Shaun were really gone. He wasn't going to listen to me.

To my surprise, there were more than just giant roaches. Now, there were giant flies that spit acidic fluid from their faces. It didn't seem to bother Codsworth. He sliced into them with the saw on one of his robotic appendages. We checked house after house, killing giant bugs, but there was no other signs of life. I really was the last one left.

We stood in the middle of one of the collapsed houses. Codsworth came up to me with dismay in his voice. "Oh, mum. They're not here either. That means they're . . . they're really gone, aren't they? Sir and young Shaun . . . they aren't here."

"Shaun's out there, Codsworth. I _need_ to find him."

"What about Concord, sir? Plenty of people there. And last I checked, they only pummeled me with sticks a few times before I had to run back home."

"There's still people alive in Concord?" A spark of hope ignited within me.

"Yes, although they're a bit rough. You remember the way? Just across the southern footbridge out of the neighborhood past the Red Rocket station. I shall remain here, and secure the home front!"

I thanked Codsworth and immediately started making my way to the city of Concord. It was just a ways down the road. My and Penny's favorite coffee shop was there. I doubted it was left standing, just as I doubted Penny was still alive.

It as almost sunset. The air was starting to get chillier. I rubbed my arms. The vault suit didn't provide much warmth. At least it was flexible. It wasn't long after I entered the main part of the city that a group of people in strange clothes spotted me and started to open fire.

I ducked behind an old car, covering my head and screaming, "I mean you no harm! Stop firing!" I had never been shot at before. This was a whole new experience. I was thankful that I still had my gun with me at least. I peeked around the corner of the car and shot as many times as I could in their direction. By a stroke of luck, I managed to hit one of the hostiles.

My stomach turned. _Oh, my God, I just killed someone. Oh, my God . . ._

There was a strange noise coming from the building ahead at the end of the street. I peered up to see someone shooting lasers from the balcony of the museum. He wasn't shooting at me; he was shooting at the other hostiles in the road.

We eventually picked off everyone, though he did most of the work. I was just lucky to be alive.

"Hey!" called a voice. "Up here, on the balcony!"

I stood up from my cover and walked closer to the building. My heart was still pumping adrenaline through my veins. I felt light-headed and still frightened.

"I've got a group of settlers inside! The raiders are almost through the door! Grab that laser musket and help us! Please!"

Someone was asking for my help? I didn't know the first thing about guns or raiders. However, I was a sucker for he service of my fellow man. I went to law school to help others. If someone needed help, the least I could do was try. Besides, I was fairly certain that I owed this man my life, now.

I picked up the laser musket from the sidewalk next to a dead body. It was the body of a young man who was wearing a checked button-up shirt, jeans, and an old-fashioned militia hat. The gun was a little heavy, nothing like the 10mm pistol I was using. However, the pistol was almost out of bullets. I inspected the rifle and noticed the crank on the side. I cranked it to test it out, and it clicked twice. Two laser cartridges were inserted into the chamber. I aimed as steadily as I could at a distant poster on the side of a building and fired. It was off – way off – due to the weight and knock-back, but it would have to do. If all else failed, I had a knife on the end of the gun.

I opened the door to the museum. It creaked open slowly. I shuffled my feet as silently as I could across the floor. I heard shouts from above as I entered the room. I looked around and found that the stairs in the front were collapsed, so there was no way I could reach the balcony of the upper floor without finding another way up.

Someone immediately started shooting at me as I came into view of the main room. I ducked for cover behind a nearby wall, which seemed to be my only way upstairs. After practically walking through a maze and killing random hostiles along the way, I was ready to collapse.

At my destination, there were two men conversing outside a room that I'm guessing had the group of settlers inside. They were threatening them and had their guns in their hands.

My hands were shaky but I steadied myself as best as I could. I shot one guy in the side of his ribs instead of his head where I was aiming, and it alerted them both. I managed to shoot him a second time and killed him, but the other guy started shooting at me. I hid for cover again and cranked my rifle. Only one cartridge left. I quickly aimed for him again, and missed.

 _Damn it._

I pulled out the pistol and prayed that at least one of my three bullets would hit him. Thankfully, two did. One in the leg, and one in the neck. My aim sucked.

After the guy bled out and went silent, I tiptoed around him and knocked on the door where the settlers were holed up.

The man that was on the balcony outside earlier opened the door. He had dark, chocolate-brown skin and black hair shaved to the scalp. He wore a pin-up militia hat and a militia coat and gloves to match. He had a laser musket of his own.

"Man, I don't know who you are, but your timing is impeccable. Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen."

I huffed. "Minutemen? So now I'm traveling backward in time?"

"'Protect the People at a minute's notice.' That was the idea. So I joined up, wanted to make a difference. And I did, but . . . things fell apart. Now it looks like I'm the last Minuteman left standing."

I looked around the room. There were four other people inside. Two were of Asian origin, pale skin and black hair, one a man and the other a woman. There was a man standing behind Preston who had brown hair, a tan complexion, and wore overalls and a t-shirt and workman's gloves. He had some kind of utility belt on, full of work tools. Then there was a little old lady with white hair and a warm hat, fuzzy house slippers, and a blue coat. She sat on the couch in the middle of the room. She looked particularly zoned out.

"Who are these people?" I asked Preston.

"Just folks lookin' for a new home. A fresh start. I've been with 'em since Quincy. Lexington looked good for a while, but the ghouls drove us outta there. A month ago, there were twenty of us. Yesterday, there were eight. Now, we're five. It's just me, the Longs – Marcy and Jun – that's old Mama Murphy on the couch. And this here's Sturges."

"Hey," said the tan guy in overalls behind him.

"Ghouls? What are ghouls?" Sounded like something from a cheesy horror film.

"Wow, you really aren't from around here, are you? Ghouls are . . . irradiated people. Most are just like you and me. They look pretty messed up, and live a long time, but they're still just . . . people. The ones I'm talking about are different. The radiation's rotted their brains. Made them feral. They'll rip you apart, just as soon as look at you. Anyway, we figured Concord would be a safe place to settle. Those raiders proved us wrong. But . . . well, we do have one idea."

"Uh, well, let's her it." I was unsure why he was telling me all this in the first place. I felt like just as much a refugee as Marcy and Jun and the others at this point.

"Sturges? Tell her."

Sturges turned his attention away from a terminal he was looking at on a desk behind Preston. "There's a crashed vertibird up on the roof." He had a country twang to his speech that I recognized from my past in Louisiana. "Old school. Pre-war. You might have seen it. Well, looks like one of its passengers left behind a seriously sweet goodie. We're talkin' a full suit of cherry T-45 power armor, military issue."

"What makes that power armor so special?" Nate was always the one who knew more about this stuff since he was in the armed forces, but he never shared a lot of details with me.

"A WesTech Internalized Servo System, that's what! Inside that baby, super is the new normal. You'd be stronger, tougher, resistant to rads, and . . . get the suit, you can rip the minigun right off the vertibird. Do that, and those raiders get an express ticket to Hell. You dig?"

I went along with the plan. "Huh. Could work."

"It'll work! Provided we can reactivate the suit. It's totally outta juice. Probably has been for a hundred years. It _can_ be powered up again. Bu-u-ut we're a bit stuck."

"So what's the solution?"

Preston spoke up. "What you'll need is an old pre-war FC. A standardized fusion core. They're high-grade, long-term, nuclear batteries used by the military and some companies way-back-when. And we know right where to find one."

"But," Sturges continued, "we can't get to the damned thing. It's down in the basement, locked behind a security gate. Look, I fix stuff. I tinker. Bypassing security ain't exactly my forte. You could give it a shot?"

"Wait, you want _me_ to do it? Why can't Preston do it?"

"I need to make sure I keep these people safe," said Preston.

After a quick back and forth with Sturges and Preston, it was clear that they were going to make me be the one to do it. How did I get into this situation? Codsworth wasn't kidding when he said the people here were rough. He could have been more specific and said something more along the lines of "insane" or "heavily armed."

I managed to find the basement. I didn't know much about computers, but I tried my best. A friend of mine in the office had a lot of know-how when it came to computers and showed me a little bit about security in case I needed to access hidden or otherwise inaccessible files. However, it was no use. I was no computer hack.

I took the bobby pin out of my long, blonde hair and picked the lock the old-fashioned way. It took half an hour to figure out how the tumblers worked. I was sure that Preston and Sturges thought I bailed on them. When I took the fusion core out of the machine it was powering, it whirred down. The core was warm in my hand. I held it close to my body to warm up as I carried it back up the stairs.

"I got it," I said, presenting it to them.

"Well, alright," Preston replied. "Maybe our luck's finally turning around. Once you jack the core into the power armor and grab that minigun, those raiders will know they've picked the wrong fight. Good luck."

I groaned and made my way to the roof. Before I made it across the room, Mama Murphy got my attention. "Careful, kid. There's somethin' comin'. And it is . . . angry."

"Huh?"

"I saw it."

"You 'saw it?'"

"It's the chems, kid. They give ole Mama Murphy the 'Sight.' Been that way for as long as I can remember."

I was already not taking her seriously. "What's . . . the Sight?"

"I can see a bit of what was, and what will be. And even what _is_ , right _now_. And right now, I can see there's something coming. Drawn by the noise, and the chaos. And it is . . . angry."

"What is it?"

"I see . . . I see . . . Oh, it's horrible, kid. Claws and teeth and horns. The very face of death itself." Her face shook like she was having convulsions. Then, the shakes subsided and she took deep breaths. "That's all I can manage. That's all. I need to rest now. And you have a job to do . . ."

Mama Murphy dismissed me, and I can't say that I wasn't eager to get away from her. I bumped into a pacing Marcy as I made for the door.

She snorted at me. "We need help, and we get a Vault Dweller? What are you going to do in that stupid jumpsuit? Bleed to death?"

"I, er . . ."

"These are our lives you're playing with! Are you listening to me?!"

I backed into the door and nervously searched for the handle. When I finally found it, I exited the room with haste and ran up the stairs to the roof above. Preston really had his hands full with these crazies.

I found the suit of power armor and inserted the power core into the back. When I entered it, I felt almost weightless. I punched the wall with my usual amount of strength and actually left a dent. I felt invincible in this suit. I ripped the minigun off the side of the vertibird as instructed and started searching for raiders below.

I found a few and started to aim for them, but lost my footing and fell off of the roof of the building. My heart fell into my gut as I started falling to the ground. I felt myself hit, but it didn't hurt. I managed to leave cracks in the concrete, even. I picked myself up and searched for the minigun. Thankfully, it hadn't been busted to pieces. Again, I tried to aim at the raiders in the distance.

The raiders died very quickly. I was still cringing at the thought of killing other people. I was a lawyer for Christ's sake. Nonetheless, the raiders were wiped out pretty quickly. Preston whooped and hollered from the balcony in a small celebration.

Just then, something huge popped the sewer cap off of the road.

Teeth, claws, and horns, just like she said.

"What is THAT?" I screamed. My voice sounded tinny and muffled in the helmet. I didn't think Preston heard me. It didn't matter. He was already warning me about it.

"Deathclaw! Watch out!"

"A death-what?!"

It roared and charged after me. It looked like a mutated lizard mixed with Satan himself. His claws were as long as my forearm, and he was twice as tall as an average human. I was frozen in panic. The back of his clawed hand smacked my torso and knocked me at least ten feet across the road. I landed with a loud clang. I actually felt the pressure from that one, and it knocked the breath out of me for a moment. As I tried to regain my breath, I scrambled around for the minigun that was knocked from my hands.

The minigun lay about four feet away, so I jumped for it. The deathclaw thing was horribly angry now and jumped on top of me. I wrestled with him and he smacked my helmet around. Preston fired off his laser musket as quickly as he could into the monster's back, but it seemed like all it did was tickle him.

I was horrified as the deathclaw pinned me down to the ground with all its crushing weight. I tried to position the minigun just right to start a hail of bullets into the monster's stomach. When I finally managed, it knocked the deathclaw backwards. At first, there was no blood at all. It was like he was wearing his own suit of armor: his scales alone.

Suddenly, a dog – a German Shepherd – leaped at the deathclaw and sunk his teeth into his ankle. I tried to stay focused, but I was just confused now. I kept squeezing the trigger on him, trying desperately not to kill the dog that just barged into the fight. The deathclaw tried to force his way toward me. Finally, the monster's 'armor' gave way and he started bleeding everywhere. The bullets did the rest of the work for me.

The monster gave one last growl of pain and landed on the concrete in a lifeless heap.

I took my helmet off and dropped the minigun on the ground. I was covered in sweat and breathing heavily. What insanity.

"Yes!" Preston cheered. "I'll meet you inside!"

The dog from earlier made his way up to me with a happy expression and a wagging tail.

"Hey, boy. Where'd you come from? What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

He barked happily.

"You seem like an okay guy. A regular badass . . ."

He sat down and wagged his tail.

"Okay, then. Let's stick together." We made our way inside the museum.


	5. Ch 5: Rebuilding

**Chapter 5**

 **Rebuilding**

* * *

"That was a pretty amazing display. I'm just glad you're on our side."

Preston stood at the far wall with Sturges. Mama Murphy sat on the bench there, and Marcy and Jun sat side by side on the floor. Preston looked more than pleased; he looked like he was even admiring me.

"You guys going to be okay now?" I asked.

"Yeah. For a while, anyway. We can at least move someplace safer." He rested the butt of his rifle on the ground, holding the barrel end in one hand to shift his weight. "When we first met, you asked about the Minutemen. One thing you should know about us: we help out our friends. So here." He took something out of his pocket and handed it to me. "For everything you've done. Take it."

It was a small sack with something rattling inside. I opened it to look. There were about forty to fifty . . . bottlecaps inside? I was a little confused, to say the least. Preston acted like it was a big deal, so I kept them anyway.

"I didn't do it for – "

"Sorry. I'm used to everyone being in it only for themselves. You know, you remind me of my friends. The other Minutemen, the ones who gave their lives for something bigger than themselves. You should come with us to Sanctuary. We could use the help."

"What would I need to do?" _Haven't I done enough?_

"You'd need to stay strong," Mama Murphy said. "Like you been. Cause there's more to your destiny. I've seen it. And I know your pain."

She couldn't see my expression behind my helmet, but I squinted my eyes at her with scrutiny. It was almost like this lady had been spying on me or something.

"My . . . 'destiny?' What do you mean?"

"You're a woman out of time. Out of hope. But all's not lost. I can feel . . . your son's energy. He's alive."

My heart stopped. How did she know about my son? Was she a part of what happened in the vault, or was she really a psychic after all? I couldn't trust anyone.

"Where is my son? Where is _Shaun_?"

"Oh, I wish I knew, kid." She shrugged. "I really do. But it's not like I can see your son. I can just . . . feel his life force, his energy. He's out there. And even I don't need the Sight to tell you where you should start lookin'. The great, green jewel of the Commonwealth. Diamond City. The biggest settlement around."

It was clear she wasn't my enemy at this point, so I dropped the possibility of her being involved in my son's kidnapping. However, I wanted to practically get down on my knees and beg her for more information. It was vague enough that she said I should start looking in Diamond City, wherever that was.

"Please, Mama Murphy, I'm working from nothing. I need more."

"Look, kid, I'm tired now. Maybe you bring me some chems later, the Sight will paint a clearer picture."

"No!" Preston went rigid. "Mama Murphy, we talked about this. That junk . . . it's gonna kill you . . ."

She just waved him off. "Oh, shush, Preston. We're all gonna die eventually. We're gonna need the Sight. And our new friend here, she's gonna need it, too. Now let's get goin'. Sanctuary awaits."

Preston sighed in defeat. "Alright, folks. Thanks to our new friend here, it's safe to move out. We're heading for that place Mama Murphy knows about: Sanctuary. It's not far."

"She knows about it?" Marcy's face went even more sour than before. "You mean she had one of her 'visions' while she was stoned out of her gourd. And now you want us to just head out on another wild goose chase based on no better plan than 'Mama Murphy saw it?'"

I heard the dog whine beside me.

Preston's voice became raised. "It can hardly turn out any worse than – "

"Hold on, hold on." Sturges walked in between them with his hands raised. "Everybody just take it easy. We're all in this together, right? Now, Marcy, you got a better idea of what we should do next?"

She didn't answer. She just turned her head.

"Anybody?"

Silence.

"Well, then. Sanctuary it is. Let's just hope it lives up to its name."

There was nothing left for me in Sanctuary, so I didn't bother telling them it was my hometown. I stood there, listening to them bicker back and forth. They really did need a place to stay. After seeing what a bad situation they were in, the least I could do was see them off. Officially, it felt like Sanctuary was _my_ town, since I was the last one left. I made the choice just then to let them have it.

As we all headed out the door, Preston felt it necessary to remind everyone of the price they paid to get this far. He offered to take point, so I trailed along in the back of the group.

Mama Murphy was a short distance in front of me. She mumbled to herself, "I'm sure Preston can handle anything we come across until we reach Sanctuary . . ."

The dog barked happily next to her.

"Oh, Dogmeat, I see you found our new friend."

"Dogmeat?" Kind of a sick name, wasn't it? "So, he's your dog?"

"Nah, he ain't my dog. No, ma'am. Dogmeat; he's what you'd call his own man. You can't own a free spirit like that. But he chooses his friends and sticks with 'em. He'll stay by you now. I saw it."

I had heard that pets choose their owners, not the other way around, but I thought it was just old wives' tales, superstition, or just animal rights activists trying to prove a point. The way Dogmeat showed up to my aid like that when I was fighting that deathclaw, though . . . it made me reconsider the thought.

Mama Murphy kept saying she 'saw it.' She was a creepy old lady, and I remained a little skeptical of her sixth sense, but she was slowly turning me into a believer. Marcy, on the other hand, was still bitter about the whole notion.

"I can't believe we're going to Sanctuary just because Mama Murphy had a 'vision' . . ." she uttered to Jun, who was still just as timid and trembling as ever.

We passed the body of the monster – the deathclaw – that attacked me earlier.

"I still can't believe you managed to take that thing out," Sturges praised.

"Me either," I said, staring at its corpse. The stuff of nightmares right there.

"This is the first time I've ever seen one up close," admitted Preston. "I'm very glad it's dead."

As we made our way down the road, all the buildings of the city started to fade into the background behind us. Sturges spoke up. "Can't say I'm going to miss this festering boil on the ass-end of the Commonwealth."

"Where are we going, Marcy?" Jun whispered to his wife.

"Don't worry, Jun. Just stay with me. It'll be fine."

"Oh . . . okay."

"Well, look at that," Sturges called to us as we came up to Red Rocket Truck Stop, an auto shop and gas station. "I think I just found my new vacation home."

It wasn't a long walk, and luckily my power armor kept me from getting too tired. We came across two gigantic mosquitoes that Preston called "bloodbugs." I had dealings with giant bugs quite a few times since I left the vault already, so this wasn't new to me. Although, it was still startling, to say the least.

We finally made it to the bridge of Sanctuary Hills. It was still dark, but I had a feeling that the sun would be up in a few short hours. It was a clear night. You could see every star in the sky. It was beautiful; you could never see the stars so vividly before the bombs.

"Well, I'll be damned . . ." Preston murmured. "It's the monument to the original Minutemen." He stood next to the statue at the bridge. It was of a man holding a bayonet. "I knew that was somewhere around Concord. That means this right here must be the Old North Bridge. Where the first shots of the American Revolution were fired." He smiled. "I'd call that the best omen we've seen since we left Quincey."

Sturges shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about, boss, but I'm glad you're happy about it."

Jun and Marcy were ahead now while Preston admired the statue. I felt a sense of ease wash over me as we crossed the bridge. I guess in more ways than one, it still felt like home sweet home. I stepped into my old house. Everyone else settled into the house across the street where Ms. Rosa and her son used to live. I figured out how to take the power armor off and I left it in the middle of my living room.

My house was almost completely demolished. The furniture was strewn across the floor and almost falling to pieces. Nothing was in working condition anymore. I was so sure that nothing electrical would work anymore, even if we did have working power. All the pictures on the walls of our family portraits and my wedding day were laying on the floor, so faded and dirty that you couldn't tell what was in the picture anymore. The glass was broken and the frames were peeling. All the dishes were still inside my cabinet. I dared not open the fridge. Two-hundred-year-old milk and steak? No thank you.

I caught a glimpse of Preston walking around outside as the sun started to show its first light over the trees. I walked out to meet him.

"I'm glad you decided to join us," he said when I walked alongside him. "I should have listened to Mama Murphy all along. Pretty nice place she's found for us. I think we could settle down here, make it a place to call home. What do you think?"

I rubbed my arm. "Yeah, I used to like living here. Before the War . . ."

"What do you mean? Before what war? Are you saying . . . ?" His expression went blank.

"I lived here . . . over two-hundred years ago. I was . . . frozen or something for most of it. Just woke up a little while ago."

"Damn. Like one of those old prewar ghouls . . . You say you were frozen? Anybody else make it out with you?"

"Just . . . my son." My breath became shaky. The first time I talked about it, I was still in shock. Now, talking about it was like stabbing myself in the heart. "Somebody took him away while I was still trapped. Have you run across anybody with a baby boy?"

"Damn, I'm sorry. But . . . no, I haven't run across any kidnapped babies. I'll definitely keep an eye out for him. Anyway, I'm . . . glad you're here." It got awkwardly quiet as we walked together down the sidewalk. Then he spoke again. "I hope you don't mind, but I've got another favor to ask."

 _Really? He's going to ask me for more favors after I just told him what I was going through?_

"I've had word from a settlement asking for help," he continued. "They're still hoping there are Minutemen out there somewhere. The only chance to start rebuilding the Minutemen is to show people that they can count on us when they need us. Trouble is, I've got my hands full here. Do you think you could go help out the settlement?"

"I'd be glad to help, but – "

"That's fantastic. The Minutemen could use more people like you. By the way, if you want to help around here at all, talk to Sturges. I'm sure he'd be glad for all the help he can get."

He left me standing there dumbfounded by the street. I was still hoping that all of this was just a bad dream. I was exhausted. I made my way back to my house and laid on the molded, dust-riddled couch in my living room. I had a lot on my mind, but it didn't keep me from sleeping. Oh, no, not at all. I was out like a light not long after.

* * *

"Miss Nora," said Codsworth, poking my leg with his robotic arm.

I awoke to the sunlight shining through the front window. I stretched and yawned and scratched my head. I couldn't wait to get my morning cup of coffee. Then, when I opened my eyes, I remembered where and _when_ I was – Sanctuary Hills, two-hundred years into the future, and the world had already ended.

My heart sank. I had hoped it was all just a nightmare.

"Mum, you do know that it's past two in the afternoon?"

I rubbed my eyes. "No, Codsworth, I didn't know that."

"I shall whip up some breakfast for you, eh?"

I was hungry, but I didn't think we had any food, so I told Codsworth not to worry about it. He was very disappointed, seeing as how he hasn't been able to serve anyone in ages. I exited my home and found everyone outside with salvaged nails and hammers and pieces of metal and aluminum laying about. They had already taken apart multiple streetlights and old cars. I was actually impressed.

I crossed the street and overheard Mama Murphy and Jun talking.

"I know what you're gonna ask me, Jun. I've seen it. And there's nothing I can do for ya."

"But . . . You have the Sight . . . It has to be able to . . ."

"It can't talk to the dead, kid. Even the Sight has limits. I'm sorry."

I frowned. I wondered what happened to him. As I made my way toward Sturges, Jun stopped me. "Hey, do you have a moment?"

I turned my attention toward him. "Sure."

"I wanted to thank you, for helping us out in Concord . . . If only we'd run into you sooner."

"What happened to you guys?"

"Long story short, we've been on the move since the attack on Quincy. There used to be more of us . . . My son, he . . . He's gone."

 _My heart._

"I understand how you feel. I . . . lost someone, too."

"But you and I. We're still here, right? We have to go on. For them." He picked up his hammer and got back to work.

His words moved me, brought a tear to my eye.

Mama Murphy was smiling at us. "Sanctuary. I knew you'd join us here, kid. Your energy is tied to this place."

"I used to live here. A long time ago."

"Ah, but the distant past ain't so distant for you. I saw you leave that ice box. This whole world is like some bad dream you can't wake up from, isn't it? The Sight can help you, kid. It always has answers. Just gotta bring me some Jet, so I can see what it wants to tell you."

"Jet? What's jet?"

"It's a little inhaler that packs a big kick. They say it makes you move faster, but at my age, it's more of a quick rush. The chems fuel the Sight, so it's not always gonna be jet I'm askin' for. But that's what's on the menu this time."

I was a believer at this point that Mama Murphy was really psychic. However, I didn't want to be the reason she keeled over and died. "No. You're an addict. You need help."

She shook her head. "Oh, not this again. Kid. Listen to me. I'm old. Even older than you'd think. If the chems are gonna kill me, then I say I've had a good run. We'd have never made it this far without the Sight. We need it. You need it. It's part of who I am."

I suppose she was right, but I was still uncomfortable about looking for drugs for her. "I, uh . . . I'll think about it," I said.

Sturges was banging away on the wall, patching up as many holes as he could with his metal scrap. "Sturges."

"Hey. You willing to do some work?"

"What kind of help do you need now?"

"Well, for starters we could use some real beds. We've been sleeping on the ground for too long."

I didn't want to sleep on the ground either, and it looked like someone had stolen my mattress from my room last time I checked. "I'd be glad to help."

"Okay, good deal." He smiled. "Just make sure we can sleep with a roof over our heads. Some of these old houses still look solid enough to do the trick. There's a workbench over there you can use. Give me a holler if you need anything." He motioned to the workbench on Ms. Rosa's carport that she often used when working on her car with her son. I recognized most of the tools on it immediately. Sturges must have already gotten to work putting it to good use.

It took a while to find the necessary things to make a few beds. I found old blankets and pillows in some of the houses. I had Codsworth to help me look for straw, or something similar to it, to stuff the beds with. Makeshift mattresses were going to have to do. I placed them inside Ms. Rosa's house since that's where everyone decided to hole up.

When I was done throwing all the mattresses on the floor in the house, I returned to Sturges. He looked over the mattresses, scratched his scruffy chin, and shook his head in approval.

"I like it. Having a place to sleep will improve everyone's spirits."

I gave him a half smile. It was kind of refreshing to talk to someone who truly cared about helping others with the little things.

"What we need now is a reliable source of clean water."

"I'm not sure what you mean . . ." The plumbing didn't work anymore, but the river had plenty of fresh water, didn't it?

"Like a well. Then we don't have to keep drinking the river water. That stuff's not good for you. It's irradiated."

 _I didn't even think about that._

"Do you know how to build this well?" I asked.

"Sure I do. I have blueprints for one somewhere in my bag." He walked back into the house to look for his blueprints. I watched from the doorway. He had a lot of different crumpled and ripped papers in his bag. He took a few minutes to find the right one, then showed me the paper. "This here's the well blueprint. Come on, I'll help you build it. Maybe you'll learn a thing or two."

Everything was so different than what I was used to. A woman doing hard labor? Building things? Using guns and fighting monsters? My poor, weak arms and legs couldn't take much more.

Sturges took me to the side of the house and showed me a good place to put the well. The blueprint showed it like an old-fashioned pump like farmers used in their fields. I had seen one before – my grandparents used to live in the countryside in Georgia. Sturges used a little concrete and a few pipes to hold it in place, and a pulley system to pull the water up through the metal pipe. I didn't fully understand how it worked, but I did learn a few things.

"There. That should do it," he said, dusting off his gloved hands. "I feel better already, knowing we have a reliable supply of clean water."

"What now?"

"Well, our food supplies are running low. If we're going to settle here, we'll need to get some crops established."

"What kind of crops are you looking for? Potatoes? Peas? Broccoli?"

"'Potatoes?' I think you mean 'tatoes.' As for the rest of that stuff, I don't know what any of it is. It doesn't much matter. Tatoes, mutfruit, corn – whatever you can get to grow."

"Mutfruit? Like . . . mutated fruit?"

Sturges laughed. "That's the idea. You should see Marcy. She and Jun used to have a pretty big garden a while back. She knows more about planting than anyone."

I found Marcy at the back of the house already working on tilling up the land. She was none too happy about me asking her to teach me how to plant seeds for Sturges. She made me get an old enamel bucket from the house and fill it with water. We poked holes in the ground and planted the seeds. I poured a little of the water on everything to saturate it, then we were done. I breathed easy when I could finally walk away from Marcy.

I could understand why she was so hateful; she lost her son, too, and her husband was a nervous wreck.

After Sturges praised our work, he assigned Marcy to watch over the crops. Preston was on guard duty while Jun was in charge of gathering scrap. Sturges would patch up what he could with the buildings and scrap the ones that couldn't be saved. I told Codsworth to help keep an eye on Sanctuary while I was out running this errand for Preston. He insisted on helping to restore Sanctuary to its former glory.

Dogmeat, however, wouldn't leave my side. When he saw me leaving for the bridge, he ran circles around me until I told him he could come with me.

I looked at my pip-boy and searched for the map. Preston had marked a location on it. I was still getting the hang of all the buttons. The map was pretty legit. It had all the roads and large bodies of water, marked like a regular map. However, it didn't have any locations marked like the one Preston set for me. I groaned when I figured out that I had to set the locations on my map manually after discovering them. Which meant that someone would have to find Diamond City on my map in order for me to get there.

I made my way into the dystopian wasteland once more.


	6. Ch 6: Promotion to General

**Chapter 5**

 **Crawl Out Through the Fallout**

* * *

I was on the road for ten minutes or so before I came across these giant, mutated naked mole rats. Dogmeat managed to take down most of them with ease, but it left me startled. I wound up going all the way back to Sanctuary for my power armor.

The battery life was half full. I didn't know what that meant in terms of how long it would last, but I chanced it anyway. I followed the roads east until I came across a quaint little town called Tenpines Bluff, the town marked on my map.

There were only a total of two settlers. One, a stout man with brown hair and a mustache, was tending to a pot over an open fire surrounded by cinder blocks. The other, a female with short black hair and a tan complexion, was weeding a few red plants growing on vines – I guessed they were the tatoes Sturges mentioned. They looked a lot like tough-skinned tomatoes.

I walked up to the woman in the small field. "Hi," I greeted her.

She looked up and her eyes went a bit wide at the first sight of me. Perhaps the suit of power armor threw her off. "What do you want?" she pressed. "We don't need any more trouble around here."

"Did you ask the Minutemen for help?"

"You're with the Minutemen? I didn't really think you fellas still existed." She relaxed. "We sent word with one of them passing traders, but honestly I never expected anything to come of it. Most people don't put much stock in the Minutemen these days, after Quincy. Bad business, that."

I didn't consider myself a part of Preston's "Minutemen," as far as I was concerned, but she didn't need to know that. I was just here to do these people a favor. I cut straight to the chase. "Is there something you need my help with?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm damn glad you're here. There's a raider gang that's been giving us trouble for weeks. Stealing food and supplies, threatening to kill us all if we don't pony up. We know where they're coming from, but we can't go up against a gang like that."

I bit my lip. I wasn't about to throw myself head first into a raiders' den. What was in it for me? "Will you be willing to join the Minutemen once I've dealt with those raiders?" _Maybe Preston can find someone else to do his favors._

"We'll certainly give it a good long think. People have gotten used to not being able to count on you folks. That's not going to change overnight."

 _Damn._

"They're holed up at Walden Pond. You know where it is?" When I shook my head 'no,' she told me where to find it on my map. "Think you can manage?"

"I'll give it a shot. If I don't come back, you'll know what happened."

She frowned at that last bit and returned to her work.

I wasn't about to lie. I barely had faith in myself; what made her think she should put her faith in me? Then again, she couldn't have known I wasn't used to any of this.

At the rate I was going, it was going to be dark by the time I got back to Sanctuary. I tried running to my destination in the suit, but it just drained my battery twice as fast. I was at thirty percent capacity already. I was beginning to get an idea of how long these fusion cores lasted. How did the people in the armed forces manage?

I traveled northwest for a good long while, almost two hours. Dogmeat never left my side. He seemed to enjoy traveling around. He never complained, never questioned me, never judged me, and never asked me for favors. I was beginning to like Dogmeat the best out of everyone I had met so far.

I came across a small house on a hillside with an electricity tower standing not far in front of it. It wasn't quite on my destination list, but it was there. I thought I might be able to find something useful inside. Hopefully something better than a pistol. There were zombie-like monsters littering the yard. I decided against the whole thing and tried to sneak by them, but they heard the clanking of my armor and were instantly alerted.

The zombies started swarming my suit, and I screamed. Then, I realized that their attacks didn't really hurt me inside the suit. It was like being slapped by a baby. However, the hoard was managing to do some damage on my armor. I started taking them out with my pistol. I was beginning to worry about how many bullets I had left. Dogmeat took out a few himself.

Eventually, they were all dead, so I traveled up to the house. The plaque on the outside was labeled "Gorski Cabin." It must have been privately owned as a vacation home. I searched the inside and didn't find much. There were some bullets on a dresser, a strange-looking chemistry station at the back of the room, and an inhaler of jet.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard Mama Murphy's words. _"We need the Sight. You need the Sight. Bring me some jet, so I can tell you what it wants you to know." So_ I pocketed the jet.

There was a basement door on the floor, but I wasn't about to walk in there. If there were zombies outside, there would be more inside that hatch for sure, and who knows what else.

I continued to my destination. It was dark now, but I had to press on. It was too late to turn back. I was getting tired, hungry, and thirsty. The occasional giant bug would bother me and Dogmeat, but they weren't very threatening anymore.

When we reached an old, crumbling building next to a swampy-looking area, I checked my pip-boy. I was almost right on top of my target. To my dismay, I had to go through a large, round drain pipe. I opened the gate to it and slipped inside. I started shaking now. I could handle the giant bugs, and Dogmeat could kill the molerats, but live people was where I wanted to draw the line.

I rounded the corner and there stood a raider by an area lit up by what looked like a string of light bulbs. Old tree roots and dirt covered the walls. It looked like I was literally underground.

Dogmeat growled and lunged at the raider before he had a chance to see us. He desperately kicked and screamed in shock when Dogmeat bit into his leg, drawing blood. I aimed for the raider and shot off a few bullets into him. He died.

It always made my stomach turn.

It alerted another raider to our left, so Dogmeat jumped on him and ripped at his throat. It was a messy but instant kill.

There was a magazine laying there on an old barrel called _Tales of a Junktown Jerky Vendor: Why I Sold My Mother_ , along with a container of dirty water and a syringe. I didn't know what the syringe did. It didn't look like the usual stimpaks. I picked up an old duffle bag from the floor and shoved my findings inside of it.

Cans hung from the ceiling down the tunnel in what seemed to be some kind of noise trap to alert the other raiders of trespassers. I carefully avoided them, and Dogmeat was too short to bump into them. Around the left corner, a woman shouted "peek-a-boo!" and started unloading her gun.

I was nearly out of bullets when we killed the woman. When I ran out of bullets, I had to run in head first and throw myself onto the male raider that was left standing. He put up quite a fight; he was muscular and his armor was tough. Some kind of leather I thought. I managed to kill him after slamming my fist into his head multiple times.

When he was dead, I leaned over and yanked my helmet off to vomit. There wasn't much in my stomach. In fact, I mostly just dry heaved. Once I had calmed myself, I opened the container of dirty water I had found and drank some down. It tasted disgusting, which didn't help my nausea. I drank it anyway. I was so thirsty. I poured what was left into an empty plastic bowl I found lying around for Dogmeat. He lapped it up gratefully.

When I was ready to head back out, I put my helmet back on. I picked up an extra gun or two from the dead raiders, grabbed a stimpak from a shelf, and made my way out.

As suspected, it was pitch black outside. I took another hour and a half or so just to walk back to Tenpines Bluff. I had to wake up the lady that I had talked to before. She was sleeping on a mattress in a shed when I arrived. I let her know that the problem was dealt with. She thanked me and said that they were willing to rejoin the Minutemen.

"If we want things to get any better, we have to start working together," she said.

I made my way back to Sanctuary, where everyone was already asleep in their bedrolls. I parked my power armor at the shed and walked across the street to get some rest. My battery was at a measly two percent. There was no way I was taking it back out at this rate. I was going to need another battery. The armor was looking pretty banged up, too. Sturges didn't want me to let it go to waste, but what else was I supposed to do with it now? Maybe he could fix it.

I collapsed on my sofa again in my house and drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep. Codsworth watched over me as I slept. I felt safe with him around.

The next morning, I was unbearably sore. Codsworth suggested that I take some med-x, but "apply with care." I wasn't exactly a fan of needles, so I left the house without taking any. It was another sunny day. The air was getting chillier with passing time. Preston was patrolling the far side of Sanctuary, so I met up with him and let him know that the settlement was on his side. Codsworth tagged along with me.

"That's great news! I knew you were the right person for the job. By the way, you should have one of these flare guns. You can use it to signal for help from any nearby Minutemen." He took a small flare gun from his pocket and a few flares and handed them to me. "Not much use yet, but once we have more allied settlements, you'll have help whenever you need it."

"Oh, cool. Thanks, Preston."

"So . . . there's something I need to ask you. I don't think I ever told you what happened to the Minutemen. How I ended up as the last one."

"Are you really the last Minuteman?"

"Maybe not literally. There must be a lot of former Minutemen out there who gave it up in disgust after the Quincy Massacre. But we were the last active group of Minutemen. And now, well . . . it's just me."

"What was the . . . Quincy Massacre?"

"I thought everyone in the Commonwealth knew about that by now."

"You forget I was frozen for two-hundred years . . ."

"Oh, right, right." He sighed heavily and jumped into the story. "I was with Colonel Hollis's group. A mercenary group called the Gunners was attacking Quincy; the people there called for the Minutemen to help. We . . . were the only ones that came. The other groups . . . they just turned their backs. On us, and the folks in Quincy. Only a few of us got out alive. Colonel Hollis was dead. So I ended up in charge of the survivors." His brow furrowed and his face painted over with regret. "We never found a safe place to settle. One disaster after another . . . you saw how it ended, in Concord."

"I know how it feels . . . to be the last survivor," I said, wrapping my arms around myself.

"Yeah, I guess you do . . . That's why I'm talking to you. I can't rebuild the Minutemen . . . but I think you can."

My eyes went wide. Was he serious? I just scoffed. "I don't know what makes you think that."

"You saved us in Concord. There wasn't anything in it for you. You had your own problems to deal with. But you did it anyway. That kind of selflessness has been in mighty short supply around here for quite a while." He smiled. "We need someone who can bring the whole Commonwealth together in a common cause. And I think you've got it in you to be that leader."

"Mr. Garvey is quite right, Mum," Codsworth chimed in. "If anyone can unite the people, it's you."

"But why can't you lead the Minutemen? It's _your_ group. I don't know the first thing about – "

"That's not who I am. I can get my men through a firefight. I can defend a perimeter against all odds. But that's not going to be enough to bring the Minutemen back from the brink."

I bit my lip. I didn't expect this. Did I have to sign up for this? But what about Shaun? Would this position tie me down, or would I still be able to look for him?

Then a dark thought crept into my mind. What if I never found Shaun? What would I do then? Would I still live in Sanctuary with my new friends? Would life even be worth living? If anything, the Minutemen could be a good distraction for me, right? And his cause was noble enough . . .

"Alright. I'll do it."

"That's the spirit, mum!" Codsworth had his own little celebration. "And one giant step in the right direction for the Commonwealth."

"Good. Good!" Preston almost sounded relieved. "Welcome aboard. I feel like this is a whole new start for the Minutemen, and the Commonwealth, too. And don't worry. I'll be right beside you all the way . . . General."

I laughed without humor. "So, if I'm a general, where's my army?"

"You're looking at it, I'm afraid. But I wasn't joking when I called you that. The leader of the Minutemen has always held the rank of General. Our last leader was General Becker. After he died back in '32, nobody could agree on who should take his place. One good thing about being the last Minuteman is there's no one to argue with me when I say you're the new General. Now it's your job to make it more than an empty title."

I still wasn't sure about all of this, but I nodded anyway.

He continued. "A pack of ghouls has holed up near a settlement. They could use our help."

"Seriously? I just got back last night. And I'm really just looking forward to some down time before I go to Diamond City."

"That's fine. Just don't forget about them, okay? By the way, a trader just come through. You may want to check her out if you're in need of supplies. Her name's Trashcan Carla, travels the roads a lot. Just try not to spend all your caps in one place."

"Caps?"

"Bottlecaps. I gave you a few in Concord, remember?"

"Caps are currency now? There's no real money?"

Preston looked taken aback. "No one's used real money since the bombs fell, I think. It's always been bottlecaps. You can find prewar money laying around, though. Some people collect it like treasures. You could make a lot of caps if you find some prewar money in good shape."

"Okay . . . I'll keep that in mind."

I made my way to Trashcan Carla as Codsworth went back to the shed to help Sturges. Carla was a rough-looking woman with short brown hair and bloodshot eyes. She wore a blue coat, jeans, and fingerless gloves. She had a cigarette between her fingers. Beside her stood a two-headed red cow with a huge, bulbous udder. It had a large pack on it's back that looked almost too big for it to carry.

"Uh, excuse me . . ."

"So what's your story?" She flicked the loose ashes off the cherry of her cigarette. "Looking to trade, rob me, or just ask for directions to Diamond City?"

I just looked at her blankly. "Do you always ask strangers this question?"

She didn't answer. She just held her serious expression. "Make it quick, I'm heading out soon."

"Did you say something about directions to Diamond City?"

"Directions. Hmph. Figures. Just keep goin' down this main road until you see the skyline, across the river. You'll find the 'Great Green Jewel' just inside city limits."

I held out my pip-boy sheepishly. "Could you just . . . kind of . . . mark it?"

"What do I look like to you? A navigation system?" She eyed my pip-boy. "Nice looking piece of machinery, though. You willing to part with it?"

"No, no. Sorry, it's not for sale."

"Hmph. Good luck finding Diamond City." She inhaled another breath of her cigarette and dropped it to the ground, snuffing it out with her boot. She snapped her fingers at the cow and had it follow her down the road.

"Find anything you like?" Preston asked a few moments later from across the street.

"No, I just asked for directions. What the hell was that animal with her?"

"The brahmin? Most caravans and traders use brahmin to haul around their wares."

"Jesus . . ."

"Listen, when you're ready to head out to Diamond City, stick to the roads. Don't make any side stops."

"Why?"

"The last thing you want is to walk through the woods and a radscorpion get the jump on you. I don't think you're prepared for something like that yet."

"Sounds like a real horror . . ."

"Heh. Just wait 'til you see one for the first time. Anyway, how long will you be hanging around?"

"For a while, I guess. I'll help with whatever I can and probably head out tomorrow morning."

Preston smiled. "Good to hear."

* * *

I spent the day asking Sturges what I could help with. He handed me a bunch of old lamps and telephones and asked me to take them apart. He showed me what bins to put them in in his makeshift workshop. The bodies of the lamps were made of porcelain, so they'd go in the porcelain bin. The copper wiring would go in the copper bin. The cloth on the lamp shades would go in the cloth bin, and the metal wiring holding the lampshade together would go in the steel bin.

Jun stopped me to talk for a second. He said that our Sanctuary revival project has really helped him keep his mind off of things. Marcy, on the other hand, wouldn't talk to me at all. The only person she seemed to respect was Mama Murphy when she wasn't taking drugs.

It reminded me of the jet I had found earlier that Mama Murphy asked for. As I passed the shed, I heard Jun and Marcy talking in hushed voices.

"You were screaming again last night, Marcy."

"Oh, I'm sorry . . ."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I just . . . I don't want to think about it anymore."

"It's okay. I still think about him, too."

"I said I'm fine. Leave me alone, Jun."

It sounded like the death of their child was putting a wedge in their marriage. A piece of my heart broke for them. They didn't know how lucky they were to still have each other. They were taking it for granted.

Mama Murphy was sitting on an old bench near the crops that Marcy and I had planted yesterday, examining the sprouts.

"Mama Murphy?"

"It looks better here every day, kid."

"I . . . have that jet you asked for."

"Like a little kick, yourself, huh?" she smiled.

"No, I – "

"Now let me ride the high to where the Sight wants to take me." She wasted no time taking the inhaler out of my hand and breathing in it's contents. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back a moment. Her speech came a little faster. "Diamond City holds answers, but they're locked tight. You ask them what they know, but people's hearts are chained up with fear and suspicion."

I listened with awe, trying to memorize everything she said.

"But you find it. You find that heart that's gonna lead you to your boy. Oh, it's . . . it's bright. So bright against the dark alleys it walks." She took a deep breath. "That's . . . that's what you need to do, kid. Follow the signs to the bright heart. Whew . . . wow . . . that . . . took more out of me than usual. I'm gonna need to rest now, kid."

"That's it?"

"Sorry. That's what the Sight had to offer."

I pouted a bit, but at least it was something to work with.

"Hey, got a favor to ask you, kid. I know it's silly, but I need a chair. Something with a nicer fit for these old bones. Can you do that for me?"

"I'm no carpenter . . . Can't you just use any chair?"

"The Sight's been real exhausting lately. Got aches and pains, even when I'm lying down."

I gave her a doubtful look.

"I know it's odd asking for a fitted chair in this day and age. But it'd really help me out, kid."

"Sure. I'd be glad to help. You are doing a lot for me, I guess. And I'm supplying you with what you need for the Sight that's exhausting you."

"Thank you, kid."

I immediately went to Sturges and asked him to help me lay out a plan for a fitted chair for Mama Murphy. We worked on finding good fabric for it, which turned out to be just old green shirts that we sewed together as upholstery. He sanded down the wood and got some nails and a hammer.

Sturges was teaching me a lot about building. I was grateful that I was learning something useful in this cruel new world. The more I knew, the better chance at survival I'd have.

We took a break and had dinner around a fire. They were cooking strange meat. I almost regretted asking what it was. I was told it was grilled radroach meat. They coaxed me into trying a bite. It didn't taste good by a long shot, but I was too hungry to complain. I eventually ate a whole piece to myself.

People actually ate like this? People ate the mutated creatures out there?

After finishing up Mama Murphy's chair and setting it in front of the shed by the fire, I headed to bed. I planned on getting an early start to go to Diamond City.


	7. Ch 7: The Interview

**Chapter 7**

 **The Interview**

* * *

"Are you alright, Codsworth?"

"Just the Commonwealth, these days, mum. Never in my existence did I imagine we'd find ourselves in such a state. Nuclear war, the hubby gone . . . the fate of young Shaun. How many lives were lost due to the war? It's tragic, mum. It truly is."

Although Codsworth was a robot, he was not programmed without feelings. He became my friend before the war. Now he was my protector. To hear him speak about his thoughts like this made me despondent.

"Miss Nora. I'm glad you're here. I realize the last two-hundred years were just moments for you, Mum, but I'd like to think we've maintained quite the rapport despite everything."

"Me too, Codsworth." I smiled at him. "How would you like to head to Diamond City with me? Maybe we'll find Shaun there."

"Are you certain I'm the man for the job, Mum? Although I live to serve, there may be someone better suited to fit the description."

"I'd like you to be there. You're part of the family, and this is a family crisis."

"Well, it's an honor to be chosen to accompany you throughout the Commonwealth!"

I gathered a few supplies and put them in my duffle bag. I slung it over my shoulder and left in a hurry. I didn't give anyone so much as a goodbye. I had a feeling I'd be back with Shaun, or I wouldn't be back at all.

* * *

Codsworth took his buzz saw to another bloatfly – a giant, black fly that sprayed irradiated acid – and then flicked the juices from it's blade. "The insects have gotten quite large the last few hundred years. By, Jove! Can you imagine the size of the swatter you'd need for these insects?"

I couldn't help but grin.

I tried to do what Preston suggested. I stayed on the road as much as possible. Codsworth would crack jokes every now and then to keep things interesting and lighthearted.

I took in the sights of the wasteland. The roads were cracked and uneven, abandoned cars littered the area with old tires and hubcaps, trees had fallen down and nothing green would grow. The sun was still high in the sky with not a cloud in sight, so everything as far as I could see was perfectly illuminated, hiding no detail of the destruction left behind by the bomb.

Everything almost felt unreal, like I was fully immersed in a first-person based movie, unable to turn the channel. It felt as though I was helplessly watching this protagonist struggle to get her life together in an alien world. Every now and then, something would pull me back to reality and remind me that this is happening to _me_.

We crossed an old bridge that wasn't fully drawn down. Someone had made stairs to walk over it. A small ship sat in the water underneath. The name on the side said "USS Riptide." A raider started shooting at us from below. The old boat was full of raiders and barrels of burning trash and makeshift ramparts across the water.

I ducked for cover.

"Now, this is my cup of tea!" Codsworth jeered.

 _What did he just say?_

Codsworth made quick work of the attack dog that ran at the raiders, but he was taking some damage from the other two below. I started shooting with my pistol and caught one in the leg. While he was down, Codsworth took his saw and cut his throat open.

"Having fun yet?" he yelled to the raider left standing.

The raider started to run, but Codsworth ran him down.

I followed behind him to at least provide cover, but there was just one raider left. He was standing at the end of the ship with a shoddy suit of power armor on. He was throwing Molotov cocktails at us. There wasn't much I could do at this point; I would have burned alive. But Codsworth hovered in and started hacking away at the suit of armor.

The raider started screaming obscenities at Codsworth. While he was distracted, I started shooting at the torso of his suit. The raider finally went down.

We were alone again. I looked through the ship and found a crate of guns.

"Well hello there," Codsworth said pleasantly as he eyed my loot. We pressed on when I picked up the last of their medical supplies.

Distant gunshots could be heard as we entered the city. I stayed on high alert and Codsworth covered my back. Finally, we found signs that said, "traders welcome ahead" and "Diamond City this way" with arrows pointing to the right. It looked like the old baseball stadium.

The gunshots weren't so distant now. Up ahead, to the right of the stadium, what looked like three armed guards were fighting big, green men. They were super mutants. The only reason I could identify super mutants was that super mutants were around before the war. They were used _in_ war as a weapon. Mindless brutes to be controlled.

"We should help them, Mum," Codsworth said as one of the guards fell to his knees and bled to death. The super mutants were shooting from a building high up.

I took the sniper that I had just looted from the ship off my back and aimed. It was heavy and my arms shook under the weight trying to keep it steady. I managed to take out only one super mutant while the guards took out the other four.

One turned to me. He was injured, holding his side. "Damn. Not afraid of super mutants? You're our kind of gal." I couldn't see his face past the umpire mask and goggles he wore.

"Well, I . . ."

"Lost a lot of good guys today. When are the mutants going to stop?"

"Are they around here often?"

"Hell yeah. The whole city ruins are full of 'em. That's why Diamond City's walls are such a blessing. Everything outside the Wall isn't safe. That's just how it is."

I glanced back at the big, green walls surrounding the stadium. _There's a city in there?_

"So, anyway, if you're lookin' to rest up, head to Diamond City. There's an inn, a bar, shops, anything you can think of. You're lookin' pretty rough."

I was slightly offended at his take on my appearance, but I could imagine what I looked like. "Thanks."

"Tally-ho, Mum," said Codsworth, already ahead of me. "We need to get you fixed up."

When we reached the entrance, though, someone else was already fighting to get into the city. It didn't look like it was going to be an easy walk-in.

It was a woman with short black hair. She wore a press cap, a red coat, fingerless gloves, black pants, and black knee-high boots. Her face was a little red with anger.

"What do you mean you can't open the gate?" she seethed. "Stop playing around, Danny! I'm standing out in the open here, for crying out loud!"

A young man's voice sounded on the intercom to the left of the large metal gate. "I got orders not to let you in, Ms. Piper. I'm sorry, I'm just doing my job."

"Ooh, 'just doing your job?' Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it? 'Oh, look, it's the scary reporter!' Boo!"

"I'm sorry, but Mayor McDonough's really steamed, Piper. Sayin' that article you wrote was all lies. The whole city's in a tizzy."

"Agh!" She clenched her fist and shook it at the intercom. "You open this gate right now, Danny Sullivan! I live here! You can't just . . . lock me out!"

He didn't answer.

"I know you're listening, Danny. Open the gate."

To my knowledge, it was just her that wasn't allowed in Diamond City. I approached the intercom with the intention of asking if I could come in. Piper motioned to me to come over after she caught sight of me. She had a spark of mischief in her eye.

"You," she whispered. "You want into Diamond City, right?"

"Uh, I just got here, but yeah."

"Shh. Play along." She moved a little closer to the intercom. "What was that? You said you're a trader up from Quincy? You have enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for a whole month? Huh." She smiled. "You hear that, Danny? Are you gonna open the gate and let us in, or are you gonna be the one talking to Crazy Merna about losing out on all this supply?"

"Geez, alright. No need to make it personal, Piper. Give me a minute . . ."

Piper giggled, clearly satisfied with herself. "Better get inside before ole' Danny catches onto the bluff."

We started walking toward the rising gate. "This place, Diamond City . . ." I started. "What is it?"

"Oh, the 'Green Jewel?'" She sighed. "She's a sight. Everyone who's anyone in the Commonwealth is from here, settled here, or got kicked outta here." She pointed her thumbs at herself. "A big wall, some power, working plumbing, schools, and some security goons are what make Diamond City the big monster it is. Heh. Love it or hate it. You'll see for yourself soon enough."

We made it to the steps inside just as the sun was starting to set.

"Piper!" yelled an angry voice. At the entrance hall at the top of the stairs stood an old man with greying hair. He had a mustache, a beige hat, and a flower in the top buttonhole. "Who let you inside? I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut." He crossed his arms and his face went cherry-red. "You devious, rabble-rousing slanderer! The – the level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I'll have that printer scrapped for parts!"

"Ooh, is that a statement Mr. McDonough? 'Tyrant Mayor Shuts Down the Press!'" She turned to me. "Why don't we ask the newcomer? Do you support the news? Because the mayor is threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster."

Considering we would have never made it to the vault without the news, I fully supported it. "I always believed in freedom of the press."

"Rightly so," said Codsworth. "A true medium for the people."

"Oh," said McDonough, obviously noticing my presence for the first time. He threw his hands up in defense. "I didn't mean to bring you into this argument, miss. No, no, no . . . you look like Diamond City material. Welcome to the great green jewel of the Commonwealth. Safe. Happy. A fine place to come, spend your money, settle down. Don't let this muckraker here tell you otherwise, alright?" he said pointing a finger to Piper.

It was starting to get uncomfortable for me, being in the middle of all this arguing. "What are you two arguing about, anyway?"

"What d'you think? Print lies and everybody's happy, but if you print the truth . . ."

The mayor cleared his throat. "Now, was there anything in particular you came to our city for?"

"I'm trying to find someone," I said without hesitation.

"Trying to find someone? Who?"

"An infant boy. Kidnapped."

Piper's attention flared. "Did you say 'kidnapped?' Well, McDonough? Is Diamond City security going to investigate this? And how about all the other kidnapping reports you've been ignoring?"

"Don't listen to her. While I am afraid that our security team can't follow every case that comes through, I'm confident that you can find help here."

Piper rolled her eyes.

"Diamond City," he continued, "has every conceivable service known to man. One of our great citizens can surely find time to help you."

"A mayor of a great city must know everyone. Who can help me?"

"Well, there is one private citizen. Nick Valentine. A . . . detective of sorts, who specializes in tracking people down. Usually for debts or whatnot. Now I have to get going. I'm sorry Diamond City security doesn't have time to help, but I'm sure Mister Valentine charges a reasonable fee."

"This is ridiculous!" Piper fumed. "Diamond City security can't spare _one_ officer to help? I want the truth, McDonough. What's the real reason security never investigates any kidnappings?"

"I've had enough of this, Piper! From now on, consider you and that little sister of yours on notice!"

"Yeah, keep talkin', McDonough. That's all you're good for."

"Hmph." Without another word, McDonough walked away. He disappeared through the hall leading to the inside of the stadium.

"I'm impressed," Piper said to me with a grin. "Not everyone can claw information out of McDonough's tight-fisted hands. Hmm, why don't you stop by my office after you see Valentine? I think I just found my next story."

* * *

Stepping inside the baseball stadium was a trip. There were string lights and lanterns hung up everywhere. Makeshift huts, houses, market stands, and decorations were everywhere. People were bustling through the area on dirt paths around the marketplace. Men and women advertising their wares and services could be heard upon entering.

There was a school building, a hair stylist, a church, a doctor, an inn, and Piper's newspaper service. I was impressed, to say the least.

"So this is the famous Diamond City," said Codsworth. "I suppose I expected to find more of a gem than a dusty home base. Civilization 'in the rough' if you will!"

I caught up to Piper, who was standing outside "Publick Occurrences" and talking to a girl on a little soapbox selling papers.

"Piper, you're back!" said the girl. She hopped off of her soapbox excitedly.

"Hey, kiddo, how are the paper sales?"

"Well, the presses are getting overloaded. That motor is going to go soon if we don't replace it."

"Ah, you've been saying that for weeks and the old girl still keeps crankin'. Stop worrying so much. I gotta head into the office. You start whistling if you see any angry politicians coming our way."

"Why? Is something wrong?"

Piper didn't answer. She just walked up to her house and shut the door soundlessly behind her.

"Piper?" The little girl turned and noticed Codsworth and I standing close by. "Hey, lady. Free papers to newcomers. If the Institute grabs you in the night, at least we warned you."

I took a paper from her. "Thanks. Er, the Institute?"

"You ain't heard of the Institute, lady?" She gasped. "They snatch people up in the night, and no one hears from them again. It's all in the paper! Better read up before they grab you, too."

"Who's gone missing?"

"Drifters, residents, stadium seat snobs. Seems every year or so, someone's gone, and we all know why." She pointed a little finger at me. "So you better be careful, newcomer. Institute is out there, and they'll grab you, too. Like I said, it's all in the paper."

"I believe you. Thanks."

The girl chuckled. "You're a real lost lamb in the wolf's den, lady."

I raised an eyebrow at her as she jumped back on her soapbox. For a little girl, she was awfully intimidating. It was almost scary. I made my way to Piper's house and knocked on the door. She opened up. "Hey, come on in," she said.

We walked into her little house. It was comprised of a small yellow couch, a washing machine that probably didn't work anymore, a few tables, a lantern, some candles, lots of newspapers, and the paper printer. There was a set of stairs that led to what I assumed was her bedroom.

"Glad you could stop by," she said as we walked inside. "You holdin' up, Blue?"

"Blue? Why are you calling me that?"

"Because of the blue jumpsuit you're wearing. You're a Vault Dweller."

"My name's Nora."

"Well, you already know me. I'm Piper. The little girl outside is my sister, Natalie. I call her Nat. Did you already see Valentine?"

"No, not yet. It's getting pretty late, so I thought I'd stop here first before you went to bed."

"So here's the deal. I want an interview. Your life story in print. I think it's time Diamond City had a little outside perspective on the Commonwealth. You do that, and . . . I'll tell you what. I'll come with you. Watch your back while you get used to the world above ground."

"What kind of interview is this gonna be?"

"I ask you who you are, get your opinion on life out there, and maybe load up a few tough questions and keep it interesting. What do you say?"

"All right, Piper. I'm in." Maybe an article would be an easy way to find out where Shaun is, like those photos of missing kids on milk cartons.

"Good. Let's get down to business. Have a seat."

We sat on the little yellow sofa and she took out a small pad of worn paper and an old pencil.

"So. I know you're from a vault. How would you describe your time on the inside?"

"My family and I were frozen. I didn't spend much time in the vault. At least, not consciously."

"Wait. They boxed you up in a fridge? The whole time? Are you saying you were alive before the War?"

"Yes. I'm over two-hundred years old . . ."

"Oh my god." She laughed in amazement. "'The Woman Out of Time.' So, you've seen the Commonwealth. Diamond City. How does it compare to your old life?"

"Can you even compare the two? The world out here? It's not even close to the one I left." I frowned. That green grass, those vivid flowers, and perfect buildings . . .

"Feelin' a little homesick, are we? Can't say I blame you. Now, the big question. You came all this way, looking for someone. Who is it?"

"My baby, Shaun, was kidnapped. He's not even a year old."

"The parent after the missing child." She sighed. "As heartbreaking today as it ever was. Tell me . . . do you suspect that the Institute is involved?"

"Sure sounds like they might be."

"Not even a baby is safe from them. And people wonder why I can't just look the other way . . . For the last part of our interview, I'd like to do something different. I want you to make a statement to Diamond City directly. The threat of kidnapping is all but ignored in the Commonwealth. Everyone wants to pretend it doesn't happen. What would you say to someone out there who's lost a loved one, but might be too scared or too numb to the world to look for them?"

"Wait. People just ignore kidnappings out here?" I was appalled. But back in my day, we had police forces to take care of such things. Not to mention working rotary phones.

"Yeah, Blue, you haven't noticed? You grow up in the Commonwealth, and eventually someone is gonna get taken. Maybe not someone you know, but someone. And people just say, 'well, it could have been worse. Could've been killed by raider attacks or super mutants or feral ghouls.' They just give up. So I want my readers to hear what keeps you going. Maybe they'll find a little inspiration. Now, what would you like to say?"

I bit my lip, thinking long and hard about her question. What kept me going felt different than what kept other victims of kidnapping going. For one, I saw my baby taken from my husband's arms. I saw my husband's murder. I went from a perfect world to Hell in what felt like mere moments. I have no family left. What keeps me going is the hope that Shaun was still out there somewhere. I had to find him . . .

"No matter how much you wanna give up, don't. You have to have hope. That you'll see them again. Or at least, that you'll know the truth."

"Ended on a strong note. Thanks, Blue. That's everything. It's gonna take some time to put all of this together. But I think your story is going to give people in Diamond City plenty to talk about. Anyway, I agreed to come with you, right? Watch your back? Just say the word when you're ready. I can't wait to see how the story goes next."

I told Piper goodbye for the night. I was headed to the inn to get some rest. Codsworth followed close behind me. On my way to find the inn, I overheard some distasteful lady talking to the hair stylist at the salon. The stylist was busy cutting a woman's hair. The lady next to him was smoking a cigarette, wearing a blue and red sweatsuit.

"If anyone is one of those things, it's her. Her and her perfect hair."

"The mayor's secretary?" The hair stylist didn't look like he was buying it. "Come on, Ma, I cut her hair myself, and I know human hair."

"That's just it, Johnny. You wouldn't be able to tell the difference. If you'd nick McDonough with your razor, he'd bleed. Don't mean nothin'."

The lady in the chair who was getting her hair styled was trying not to pay attention to the conversation. She looked happy to get up and leave.

I just shook my head and went on. I finally found the inn at the dugout. It was literally called "the Dugout Inn." A few security guards made comments on my robot butler and my vault suit as we passed, but I paid them no mind. I was starting to get used to surprising people.

On my way into the Dugout, I heard distinct Russian voices. Behind the desk, a man with brown hair and a heavy build was talking to another man that looked a lot like him. The resemblance was uncanny.

"Vadim, we need to talk."

"Just a minute, Yefim. I am in middle of story." He turned his head back to the spectators standing in front of the bar. "So then, I am crossing river, right? Wearing nothing but a smile, when out comes the most dangerous of sea monsters . . . the Mirelurk."

"A Mirelurk?" asked a spectator. "Come on, that's like two out of ten points of danger. Tops. Now, if you wanna talk something really deadly . . ."

"Vadim!" yelled Yefim.

"Oh. I forgot you were there Yefim." He sounded annoyed now. "What is it?"

He sighed. "You know what? Nevermind. I'll handle it myself."

I walked up to the bar to rent a room.

"See this bar?" Vadim said on my approach. "I killed man for it." He went into a bought of laughter. "No, no. I kid . . . I kid . . ." He coughed and wiped a tear from his eye. "He _is_ dead, though. Now, let me know when you're ready to order."

"So, this is your bar?"

"Damn straight it is. My brother Yefim and I make the best moonshine in entire Commonwealth. We call it Bobrov's Best. Had to start renting out rooms just so customers had safe place to pass out after drinking it! Ha ha ha ha!"

"I'm not looking to buy right now. Just want a room."

"You sure? Ah, well. See Yefim if you want room."

I walked to the man to my far left, who was standing by the hallway where the rooms were set up. "Excuse me? Yefim?"

He seemed down in the dumps. "Oh, a customer. You need a room?"

"Yes, please."

"Ten caps, please."

I rummaged through my duffle bag and found my caps bag that Preston gave me. I took out ten and put them in the palm of his awaiting hand.

"Thank you. You are in room two, just through the door."

A big "2" was painted on the door in front of me in white spray paint. I walked into the room and shut the door behind me. Inside was a coffee table, a chair, a couch, a bed with an actual mattress, a lit candle, and two small dressers.

"Not too shabby, eh, Mum?"

"It'll do. It's better than what I've been sleeping on," I said, eyeing the bed. I immediately kicked my shoes off for the first time since I left the vault. They were the flats that I'd left the vault in. I didn't notice until they were off, but my feet were red and chafed. I had blisters on my toes. I suddenly started feeling sorry for myself.

I shook the feeling away and just laid down in the bed. It was nice to sleep on a mattress again. It didn't take long for me to drift off to sleep.


	8. Ch 8: Detective for a Detective

**Chapter 8**

 **A Detective for the Detective**

* * *

Codsworth graciously opened the door for me. I hurried out the door; I was excited to meet this detective. I wasted no time leaving the Dugout. It was chilly outside as usual. Another beautiful day. Just a few clouds here and there. All was quiet outside, since it was still early. It was eight in the morning. I was hoping that Mr. Valentine would be awake.

I asked a pedestrian for directions to Nick Valentine's agency. He told me to take a right, go past the radio station and the drifter's camp, and I'd find it no problem. There on the side of the building was a bright, neon heart that said Valentine Detective Agency.

Then I remembered what Mama Murphy said about following the bright heart. The heart that lit up the dark alleyways it walks. I got excited and jumped right into the doorway of the agency. I knocked, but no one answered. I opened the door with a light creek.

Inside, a girl with dark hair pulled up into a bob with a black vest and a pink skirt was standing at the back of the small office. She was going through boxes of papers. She seemed distraught.

"His ties . . ." She sighed sadly. "Oh, Nick . . ."

"Ma'am? Is something wrong?"

"Another stray coming in from the rain," she muttered. "'Fraid you're too late. Office is closed."

"I know you must be busy, but I won't take much of your time, miss. It's important."

"You don't get it." She was completely stressing out now. "The detective. He's gone. Missing."

"What? I need to see him! I can help. Tell me what happened."

She sighed again and took a seat at her desk. She propped her elbows up and held her face in her hands. After a moment of silence, she looked up at me. "Nick was working a case. Skinny Malone's gang had kidnapped a young woman, and he'd tracked them down to their hideout in Park Street Station. There's an old vault down there that they use as a base. I told Nick he was walking into a trap, but he just smiled and walked out the door like he always does."

"Who's this Skinny Malone character?"

"I don't know much about him, but he's from Goodneighbor, and that means he's into well-pressed suits and machine gun school of thuggery."

"Goodneighbor?"

"Yeah, it's a tough neighborhood. Northeast a ways. People with power there care about two things: style and body count."

"Look, I'll find Nick. You have my word."

"Thank you. Nick should be easy to spot. He's always wearing that old hat and trench coat getup. Please, hurry."

She marked the location on my pip-boy map for me. I turned on my heel as soon as it was marked.

"All this fuss over a detective," Codsworth complained. "I do hope Mr. Valentine is worth it, but then again, anything is worth the risk when it comes to finding young Shaun."

"My thoughts exactly, buddy. Let's hurry."

* * *

There was definitely no shortage of danger on our way to the old vault. There were ghouls at the Dartmouth Professional Building, and the Mass Pike Tunnel was taken over by raiders. And those were just the first two locations we passed. We still had a quarter of a mile to go before we made it to our destination.

Every time we killed an enemy, Codsworth cheered and made jokes. He was pumped and ready for the fights. I barely recognized him. The wasteland had changed him, too.

We passed the Boston Public Garden in Boston Common. Codsworth was reminiscing. He was also impressed to find that some of the swan boats were still intact.

We finally made it to the metro station. The vault was somewhere inside. We crept in, and I stayed low to the ground and the walls. Inside, there were two guys conversing with each other. I peeked inside, and they both looked like thugs.

While they were talking, I shot off my gun at one's head. I was getting better with my aim, but I was still a little off. I shot him in the neck instead, but it was good enough.

As soon as one was dropped, it sounded like six other guys started shooting. I was in a panic. I should have scoped out the area better. Codsworth ran in headlong with his flamethrower.

It went on like that with every room. Kill mobsters, move on. Kill more mobsters, move on. There were times when bullets nicked my shoulders. At some point, I had no choice but to take a stimpak. I'd never been so beaten up in my life. Codsworth was a great help, as well. He was patient with me and allowed me to take breaks when I needed them.

Finally. There it was. The Vault 114 entrance. Inside, it was crawling with more hostiles. I was terrified; they were everywhere. Some of them had baseball bats, some machine guns, and some brass knuckles. I was down to a pipe rifle and thirty-four bullets.

After we cleared out a room full, Codsworth whispered, "You don't suppose that this vault was unfinished when the bombs fell? I can't imagine exposed dirt was the look they were going for."

The walls were indeed covered in dirt like we were inside a natural tunnel. There were metal stairs, railing, and ramparts built all through it, like a maze. There was barely any cover, making it hard for me to sneak around.

Codsworth jeered at the mobsters, "Come on, at least give us a challenge!" as he burned one alive.

"Shut up, Codsworth!" I yelled over my gunfire. The last thing I needed was for him to egg them on.

After we got out of the bare part of the vault, we jumped down into a square hole in the floor and landed safely in front of a door. Inside, we came to a less bare part of the vault. There were computers, lockers, boxes, Vault-Tec merchandise, the works. We went down a hallway that looked like it needed maintenance, with tools and light bulbs laying around. At the end of the hall to the right, we met another sliding door. Inside was a wide room. The room looked like it was the main part of the vault. It looked like it was actually finished, unlike the rest.

At the top of the banister was another mobster. We snuck up the stairs to the top and listened into his conversation with someone he was holding captive behind a door with a rounded window in the wall next to it.

"How you doin' in there, Valentine? You feelin' comfy? You need a snack?"

"Keep talkin', meathead. It'll give Skinny Malone more time to think about how he's gonna bump you off."

"Don't give me that crap, Valentine. You know nothin', you got nothin."

"Really? I saw him writing your name down in that black book of his. 'Lousy cheating card shark' I think were his exact words. Then he struck the name across three times."

"Three strikes? In the black book?" The thug was getting nervous. "But I never . . . Oh, no . . . I gotta smooth this over! Fast!"

He turned on his heel and started running for the stairway that we were standing next to.

 _Oh, no._

Codsworth was already in front of me to take whatever firepower the mobster was packing. As soon as he saw us, he was too confused to do anything. Codsworth let out a hail of fire onto him with his flamethrower. The mobster screamed and tried to put the fire out. As he patted himself down, he reached for his gun and started shooting. I was out of bullets and out of hope.

"I've got you, Miss Nora!" he shouted as he took the bullets against his metal body. He sliced at the mobster with his saw. The mobster fell to the floor, grabbing his gut that was cut open and pouring blood. He choked and took his last breath before leaving a pool of blood on the floor.

"Are you all right, Mum?"

"I'm fine," I said, stunned. Codsworth had become a killing machine.

"Come, let us tend to Mister Valentine."

"Right." I searched the mobster's pockets and found a card with a password on it. I was guessing that it would open Valentine's door.

"Hey, you!" Valentine yelled from the dark room as we passed the rounded window. "I don't know who you are, but we got about three minutes before they realize muscles-for-brains ain't coming back. Get this door open. Use the terminal over there."

To the right of the door was a terminal. I entered the password and clicked "Override Door Controls." The door slid open in no time.

As I approached the detective, I realized that he wasn't quite . . . human.

He wore an old beat up trench coat and fedora. He had a pair of slacks on with dress shoes and a white collared shirt. I could faintly see suspenders under the collar of his trench coat on his shoulders. His style was human enough, if not outdated.

It was his skin and his eyes that caught me off guard. His skin was white, almost synthetic-like. He was missing pieces from his face. His eyes were black, but the iris was bright, glowing yellow, like they were computerized.

His voice was gruff and naturally romantic. He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with a flip lighter. One of his hands had all of his metal skeleton showing and no skin left. Was he a robot?

"Gotta love the irony of this reverse damsel in distress scenario," he said after taking a long breath of his cigarette. Question is, why did our heroine risk her life and limb for an old private eye?

"What . . . are you?" That was insanely rude, but it just came out.

"Told you. I'm a detective. Look, I know the skin and the metal parts ain't comforting, but it's not important right now. The only thing that matters is why you went through all this trouble to cut me loose."

"My – my baby's missing. His name's Shaun. He was kidnapped, but I don't know who took him, or where they went."

"Missing kid, huh? Well you came to the right man. If not the right place. I've been cooped up in here for weeks. Turns out the runaway daughter I came here to find wasn't kidnapped. She's Skinny Malone's new flame, and she's got a mean streak. Anyway, you got troubles, I'm here to help." He puffed at his cigarette. "But now ain't the time. Let's blow this joint. Then we'll talk."

Nick led the way to the exit and Codsworth and I followed.

"Malone's crew used to be small-time, muscled out of the old neighborhood by bigger players. Until they found this place. Don't know what happened to the previous owners, but they're not exactly around to charge rent. An empty vault. Perfect hideout."

We ran through a door and down a spiral stairway. Then Nick crouched before we got to the next doorway.

"Hold up. I hear some of them coming . . . There they are. How do you wanna play this?"

"Uhh . . . wait for them to leave?"

"I don't think that's gonna happen anytime soon," he whispered.

One of the men caught sight of Codsworth through the doorway.

"Oops," Codsworth whimpered.

"You and the detective are dead!" shouted one as they both open-fired.

We had no choice but to fight back. Nick grabbed my arm and spun me out of the way with finesse and started firing his pistol at the men. He was a pretty good shot. He took one out with just three bullets.

After they were both dead, he holstered his gun and straightened his hat. "Hard and loud, huh? Well, it gets the job done. Too bad for whoever cleans up the floors . . ." He dropped his cigarette butt to the ground and stamped it out.

We made our way down a messy hallway, where tools, tables, trash, and boxes littered the floor. At the end of the hall was another door.

"This door is on the fritz," said Valentine. "Let me see if I can get it open . . ." He fiddled with the contraption on the wall that had the 'open' and 'close' buttons connected to it. I couldn't see what he was doing, but he seemed confident, not unlike an expert. "There we go," he said as it slid open. "It's a helluva lot easier to do when the lock isn't on the other side."

More spiral stairs. We ran up this time and was met by a silent room. Little did we know that there was a mobster waiting around the corner by a full shelf of junk. He was hidden perfectly. Nick walked by, and the man almost hit him in the head with a baseball bat.

"Watch out!" I screamed.

Nick whirled around and saw him. The mobster instead went for me. I couldn't defend myself. He grabbed me by my long hair and shoved me face-first into the shelf. The shelf rammed into my temple. It knocked me silly and I fell to the floor, struggling to see straight, my hair still gripped in his hand.

The man lost his grip on me as Codsworth dropped the guy like a sack of potatoes while Nick helped me up.

"You did good," he assured me. He steadied me to my feet.

We went through room after room, Codsworth and Nick taking down the enemies.

"More stairs?" Nick complained. "Who built this vault, a fitness instructor?" Then Nick turned to me. "I just realized – did you come all the way here without a gun or something?"

"I had one, I just ran out of ammo."

He shook his head. "In every gun in that bag of yours, you ran out of ammo?"

I shook my head.

He sighed and went up to one of the bodies. He bent down and rummaged through their pockets. "See here," he explained, "you can find all kind of loot. Bullets, stimpaks, chems, cigarettes, even more guns."

"Looting the dead? Wait . . ."

"I know it sounds sketchy, but it's them or you. Now take this gun." He tossed me a machine-gun that still had a nearly clip. He shoved some ammo in my hand as well. "Now you won't be a sitting duck. Let's go."

The gun was still warm. It felt . . . wrong.

We headed up the spiral staircase again, my knees screaming at me in protest.

"Skinny Malone and his boys are no doubt waiting for us somewhere. The name's, uh, ironic, but don't let that fool you. He's dangerous."

"I'd say so if he kidnapped a detective."

"'Kidnapped' is a strong word. I did go looking for him, after all. He more or less 'captured' me." We reached the top. "Another locked door," he grumbled. "Shouldn't be too hard . . ." He immediately got to work on the door.

"Mum," Codsworth whispered, "are you sure there's not someone better suited for the job?"

"What brought this up? Are you okay, Codsworth?"

"I'm just dandy, Mum. It's just that I feel like someone like Sir Preston or Miss Piper would be better suited to keeping you safe. I'm just a butler, after all."

"You're more than a butler, Codsworth," I whispered back.

"Okay, I got it," Nick interrupted. "But I hear big, fat footsteps on the other side. Once we step through this door, get ready for anything."

I nodded with my gun at the ready.

The door led us back to Park Street Station outside the vault. We were still in the underground subway. There in front of us was who I assumed to be Skinny Malone and his girlfriend, because he had more mobsters waiting at the ready on either side of him to open fire whenever he gave the signal. I understood Nick's comment now, because Malone wasn't skinny at all. He was rather plump and reminded me of Mayor McDonough.

"Nicky? What are you doin'?! You come into my house, shoot up my guys – do you have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?!"

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for your two-timing dame, Skinny. You ought to write tell her to write home more often."

"Awww . . . poor little Valentine," the woman teased. "Ashamed you got beat up by a girl? I'll just run back home to daddy, shall I?" She had a baseball bat resting in her hands.

"Shoulda left it alone, Nicky. This ain't the old neighborhood. In this vault, I'm king of the castle, you hear me? And I ain't lettin' some private dick shut us down now that I finally got a good thing goin'!"

"I told you we should have just killed him!" the woman screamed. "But then you had to get all sentimental. All that stupid crap about the 'old times.'"

"Darla, I'm handling this! Skinny Malone's always got things under control."

"Oh, yeah? Then what's this lady doing here, huh?" Everyone turned their attention toward me, and I started sweating. "Valentine must have brought her here to rub us all out!"

"Wait, hold on. What's the deal with you people and Nick, anyway?"

"Darla's a runaway," Nick explained. "Her father wanted me to bring her back home. Turns out she skipped town to be with my old pal, Skinny Malone. Mob boss. Never thought he'd manage to scrape together a big enough crew to take over a vault. Guess life's full of surprises."

"Hey!" Skinny shouted. "Who's runnin' this show here? You got somethin' to say, say it to me."

"This all seems to be a misunderstanding, Skinny. You know that. So just let us walk and – and we won't come back."

"You and Nick shot all of my crew and you expect to just . . . Agh! . . . Alright. You're lucky I still owe him for that time back at the Quarry. I'm gonna give you two until the count of ten before I forget my good manners and start shooting up the place!"

"What are you doing, Skinny?! Kill them!" Darla was furious.

"No, Darla. They get one chance to leave. Skinny Malone's puttin' his food down."

"My mother was right." She flipped her hair. "You mobsters are all just talk." She turned to leave.

"We better get outta here. Fast." Nick whispered to me.

Skinny started counting.

We all started running for the exit and passed up Darla, who was taking her sweet time.

"Two . . . Three . . ."

The faster we ran and the further we got, his voice got more and more distant, but he never stopped counting.

"Four . . . Five . . . Six . . . Seven . . ."

Finally, we couldn't hear him anymore. We couldn't get out of those subway tunnels fast enough. I was so scared, I almost left Nick and Codsworth in the dust.

We climbed up an old metal ladder that led to a hatch. I opened it up and instantly saw the sun. It was like instant comfort. I could breathe again.

Nick looked up at the sky and took a deep, long breath. "Ah, look at that Commonwealth sky. Never thought anything so naturally ominous could end up looking so inviting . . . Thanks for getting me out." He turned to me. "How did you know where to find me, anyway? Not many people knew where I went . . ." His glowing eyes rested on mine.

"Just . . . what are you, Nick?"

"You really don't know? I'm a synth. Synthetic man. All the parts, minus a few red blood cells. I got built, I got old, I got tossed. Then I opened up that little agency in Diamond City, and it turns out people have plenty of problems to solve. Now, you mentioned something about your son, Shaun, and how he went missing. I want you to come to my office in Diamond City. Give me all the details. Besides, I think you've earned a chance to sit down and clear your head."

"Lead the way. I'll follow you there."

"Okay, let's move fast."

I followed Nick with Codsworth in tow. I had a feeling that Codsworth was getting extremely uncomfortable and overworked. I had half a mind to let him go on back home and get some rest.

"Traveling the Commonwealth as long as I have, you learn a few things. These old buildings and alleyways give you a lot of opportunities to hide if things get bad, but that goes both ways. Always keep your eyes out, and your head on a swivel. Things can go from calm to deadly in a heartbeat."

We had to kill a few wild mongrels on the way to Diamond City, and some raiders tried to get the jump on us, but Nick was a natural gunslinger. He had a type of finesse that I haven't seen before.

As we came up to the gate of Diamond City, Nick relaxed and holstered his gun. "Despite the mayor's bragging, Diamond City really is the most secure settlement around, even if it comes with a few uptight guards."

We walked through the gates and down the exterior hall. Diamond City was as busy as yesterday, if not more.

"Mum, a word please?" asked Codsworth.

"We'll catch up, Nick," I said to the synth who was waiting on me.

He tipped his hat and put his hands in his coat pocket.

As Nick made his way back to his agency, I returned my attention to Codsworth. "What's on your mind?"

"Oh, just a little something I'd like to get off the proverbial chest. I just want to say what an honor it is for me to accompany you, mum. You've no idea the horror these last two centuries have wrought. The initial destruction, not knowing if you and your family were alright. It was a relief just to find the entrance intact!"

"Vault-Tec wouldn't let us take you," I frowned. "I'm sorry."

"Not a single worry, Mum, as I shared your priorities completely. Family safety above all else! And yes, while it was hard at first, I was eventually able to move on. At first it was the work, busying myself day and night, and believe me, there was plenty of it! But eventually, the work became light chores. What truly saved me was my memories, mum. Memories of you and the hubby, young Shaun. Of your love and kindness. I soldiered on, fueled by hope that one day, if not you and the husband, that Shaun, or perhaps Shaun's children would one day emerge."

He almost brought a tear to my eye. "I'm glad you stuck around."

"Mum, you don't know how good it is to hear you say that! I just wanted you to know how much I consider you family. I may be a mere robot to some, but I do hope you've come to see me as more."

"I consider you my family, too, Codsworth. We're in this world for the long-haul . . . together."

"Miss Nora, you don't know wonderful it is for me to hear that! I feel completely recharged!"

I laughed.

"Well, enough blither blather from me. Let's get back to it, shall we? I feel as though we are finally making progress, Mum. Mister Valentine seems to be quite the detective."

"Actually, Codsworth . . ." I laced my fingers together. I didn't want him to get the wrong idea. "I . . . was actually hoping that you'd go back to Sanctuary a while. I want you to rest up. You look . . . pretty rough."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. It's time for us to part ways. You should see if Sturges will take a look at you."

"Alright then, Mum. I'll just pop off, then. Head back to the ole' domicile."

"Be careful out there."

"Of course, mum. You as well."

We went our separate ways then. I headed down the stairs and deeper into Diamond City. I took the alleyway toward Nick's agency. My palms were sweaty as I reached for the door handle. I knew I had to talk to him about everything that went on. Dig up all the memories in full detail. My heart pounded in anticipation to find my little boy.

I opened the door to Nick's office.


	9. Ch 9: The Bloodied Trail

**Chapter 9**

 **The Bloodied Trail**

* * *

"Ellie? Are you here?"

"Nick?" A woman's voice called from inside the office. She emerged from behind a pile of boxed papers. "Nick, is that really you?"

"Yeah, hard to mistake me for anybody else."

"Hmph. You keep laughing at death, someday, death is gonna laugh back."

"Not as long as I got a few friends to back me up." Nick smiled at me.

Ellie turned to me with an even bigger smile than Nick's. "You saved Nick, this agency, and my job. Thank you."

"Happy to do it."

"Yeah? Go diving into scary prewar ruins all the time, do ya?"

"You could say that . . ."

"Here. I know an amount wasn't on the table when you went out to find him, but you deserve a reward. Plus a little something extra." From her desk drawer, Ellie took a sack of caps and my very own detective outfit and gave them to me.

I just grinned. It wasn't like I planned on wearing the cheesy outfit, but it was a nice gesture.

"You know, if you're looking for work and you don't mind putting on the detective hat, Nick sure could use a new partner."

"Whoa," said Nick from his desk. "One case at a time, Ellie. Our new friend needs our help first."

"Alright, let's get down to business." He moved to Ellie's desk, and she stood to take notes. There was an upholstered chair in front of Ellie's desk. "Take a seat. Make yourself comfortable."

I sat down in the worn out chair in front of him and tried to get as comfortable as I could. I had a feeling I was going to be there a while.

"I want to know everything you know about the kidnapping. Don't leave out any details, no matter how excruciating it may be . . ."

I started with the kidnappers. "There was a man and a woman. They didn't say much, but I remember they called me the 'back-up.'"

"So we're talking a small team. Professionals. The kind that know to keep their lips tight when they're on the job. Not sure what 'the back-up' means though . . . What else can you tell me?"

"We were in a vault when it happened. Vault 111. It was some kind of cryo facility."

"You were on ice, huh?"

Ellie was furiously taking notes, her pen moving so fast, I couldn't understand how she could read her own writing.

"More importantly, you were underground," he continued. "Sealed up. That's a lot of obstacles to get through just to take one person. What else do you remember?"

The worst was yet to come. "My husband was . . . murdered. He was just trying to keep them from taking Shaun . . . and they . . . they just . . ." A lump jumped into my throat and my voice cracked. I didn't think I could go on.

"It's okay," said Ellie. "You don't need to say anything more."

I tried to hold my tears in front of the professional detective.

"So," he said, "we're talking about a group of cold-hearted killers, but they waited until something went wrong to resort to violence. Anything else?"

"We're looking for my baby, Shaun. He's less than a year old. Why would anyone take him?"

"Good question." He held his chin. "Why your family in particular, and why an infant? Someone would be taking on all of his care, and a baby needs a lot of it."

My heart filled with outrage at the thought of someone else raising my child. I was his mother. He needed me. _Me._ Not some murderer.

"That confirms it. This is not a random kidnapping. Whoever took your kid had an agenda. Hmm . . . There's a lot of groups in the Commonwealth that take people. Raiders, Super Mutants, the Gunners, and, of course, there's the Institute."

"Super Mutants? But they're . . ."

"Big, green, muscles on muscles. In other words, hard to miss. I think we can safely rule them out."

"Yeah. Who are the Gunners?"

"High-end mercenaries. No job too brutal. They're in the running as likely suspects, but they wouldn't be the ones pulling the strings."

"You think raiders might have done this?"

He chuckled. "I honestly doubt it. They can barely organize themselves, let alone pull off something this complicated."

"So that leaves the Institute. You think they're responsible?"

"Well, they are the boogeyman of the Commonwealth. Something goes wrong, everyone blames them. Easy to see why. Those early model synths of theirs strip whole towns for parts, killing everything in their way. Then you got the newer models, good as human, that infiltrate cities and pull strings from the shadows."

"But why?"

"No one knows. That's the worst of it. No one knows why they do it, what their plan is, or who they are. Not even me, and I'm a synth myself. A discarded prototype, anyway."

"Either way, I need to find Shaun." We were just wasting time now, and I was getting restless.

"You're right. This speculation is getting us off track. Let's focus on what you saw. What did these kidnappers look like?"

"The woman was dressed in a . . . I think it was kind of a hazard suit. The man had . . . some sort of metal brace on his arm."

"Like some kind of improvised armor? Lots of hired guns do that to look tough. The hazard suit is interesting." Nick leaned back in his chair. "Not many mercs can afford something that fancy."

"The man who . . . that killed my husband. He had a handgun. I didn't get a clear look at it, but that sound."

"Could have been a large caliber revolver. Hmm . . . I'm starting to get a clearer picture of the kind of man our perp is . . ."

"I'll never forget that voice. Low and rough. Like sandpaper across your face."

"Huh. Not much to go on, but a tough and commanding voice can get someone pretty far in the violence business."

"The man came right up to me. Bald head, scar across his left eye."

"Wait." He sat straight up in his chair. "It couldn't be. You didn't hear the name 'Kellogg' at all, did you?"

"No. They never said their names."

"Hmm. Way too big of a coincidence. Ellie, what notes do we have about the Kellogg case?"

"The description matches! Bald head. Scar. Reputation for dangerous mercenary work. But no one knows who his employer is."

"And he bought a house here in town, right? And he had a kid with him, didn't he?"

"Yeah, that's right. The house in the abandoned West Stands. The boy with him was around ten years old."

"It's Shaun! It has to be! . . . Somehow . . ." I didn't know what I was babbling about, but somehow I knew that that child was Shawn. I was out for two-hundred years; nothing else would surprise me.

"Don't jump the gun on me. You said you were looking for an infant, remember?" Valentine lit another cigarette and pursed it between his lips. "That's over nine years difference by my count. Look, maybe he has a son of his own. Maybe it's someone else's kid. Either way, they both vanished a while back." He stood up from his chair. "Let's you and I take a walk over to Kellogg's last known address. See if we can snoop out where he went."

"Security doesn't really go to that part of town," Ellie mentioned. "But you two should still be careful."

"I always am," he said with a tip of his hat as he made for the door, his coat flapping a little as he walked. I followed him out the door.

* * *

As we walked through the alley, Nick whispered to me. "I didn't want Ellie to hear this, but I think you should know. Everything I dug out about Kellogg before his disappearance was bad news. He's more than just a mercenary. He's a professional. Quick, clean, thorough. Has no enemies, because they're all dead . . . except you."

We took a right by the ally and met a staircase leading up toward the west stands. Nick puffed at his cigarette with me in tow behind him, making me cough as the smoke passed my nostrils.

"But nine to ten odds say that he's our man. It's more than just you identifying his distinguishing features. The MO is all him as well. Leading a small team to kidnap a baby, and leaving one of the parents alive for later? Not many mercs in the Commonwealth can pull that off."

We walked over the rafter to a lonely little house sitting inside the side of the stands. It was plain and much like the other huts I had seen around the city. Nick walked up to it and jiggled the knob. When it didn't open, he started to pick it himself.

"That's one heck of a lock. Got something to hide, Kellogg?" He had no luck. "Why don't you give it a try?"

"There's no way I can pick that."

"Guess we'll need the key."

Nick pointed me in the direction of the mayor's office and told me to get the key from his secretary. I didn't feel comfortable going to see the mayor again, or his secretary, to ask for a stranger's house key. Considering he didn't seem too friendly when I first met him upon my arrival to the city, I wanted to steer clear of the mayor.

Nick sighed and told me to keep watch at the door while he went to get it himself. I waited for about fifteen minutes before he came back with the key. He said he had to talk her into handing it over with a few caps, but he got it nonetheless.

"You do the honors," he said, handing me the house key.

I put the key in the door, and slowly turned it. I was almost afraid of what I was going to find. It smelled musty inside. You could tell that no one had lived there in a long time. It looked like he had left in a hurry – many of his belongings were still laying around throughout the house.

"This house seem small to you? Figured a guy like Kellogg would think big. Looks like there's nothing here. Check through his desk. I'm tellin' ya, something's not right. Look for anything out of sorts."

I looked through his desk, but it was filled with papers that I couldn't be bothered to read. Most of it was stuff I didn't understand anyway. There was a toolbox on the desk. Nothing interesting inside. Not even a hint of drug paraphernalia or beer bottles, though he seemed like the type.

Then I saw it. A button underneath the desk. It was attached to a cord leading to the right wall. I pressed it. To my surprise, a piece of the wall to the left opened up in front of Nick, who took a step back.

"Well, that's one way to hide a room." He walked inside. "Look at this. All of a merc's favorite things."

I walked inside after him. And there were the things that were missing from the scenario in the first room. Beer, cigars, packs of cigarettes, stimpaks, and lots of ammo. In the center of the room was a red chair with tools on a table. It looked like . . . some kind of torture chair. On the far left wall, he had stashed food, ammo, water, and Nuka-Cola. I looked at the beer bottle on the table beside the red chair.

"Gwinnett Stout beer? .44 caliber bullets. San Francisco Sunlight cigars."

"Interesting brand. Won't lead us anywhere on its own, though." He pocketed the cigar and the beer bottle.

"Suggestions?"

"What about Dogmeat?"

"You know Dogmeat?"

"Who doesn't? A Commonwealth mutt like him could track a man's scent for miles. Why don't we go fetch him and let him have a whiff? See if he picks up the trail? Oh, and before we head out . . . I know that this is personal business. If you have to face Kellogg on your own, just say so."

I took a deep breath. I never thought about what would happen when, or if, I ever met my son's kidnapper and my husband's killer face-to-face. "Any advice or words of wisdom?"

"If Kellogg really is the one that kidnapped your son, then he's dangerous, but so are you. You don't need to be afraid of him, or anything else that the Commonwealth throws at you."

His words brought little comfort. I didn't have confidence in myself. I was a lawyer, not a gunslinger. A mother, not a murderer. I believed in peace, not revenge. Confidence or no confidence, I didn't want to go alone.

"I want you with me on this, Nick."

"All right. Let's get that bastard. This is your show from here on out, okay? You say 'jump,' I'll say 'how high.'"

"Dogmeat is in Sanctuary Hills, where my old home used to be. At least, that's where I told him to stay. You wouldn't mind traveling there with me?"

"Whatever we gotta do. Lead the way."

* * *

We made our way back to Sanctuary Hills shortly after. It was the middle of the night, which was extremely dangerous, but we weren't willing to wait around.

We got there at roughly three in the morning, so we rested. I didn't want him to give people a start, so he had to stay at my house instead of with the other settlers. He claimed he didn't need to sleep as an older model synth, so he sat up in the chair while I rested on my couch. Codsworth was happy to see that I had come home so soon, but I had to explain to him that I wasn't staying long.

The next morning, I gathered a few more supplies, like bottled water and radstag steaks – radstag meaning a two-headed elk – and ate a hearty breakfast of melon slices. I talked to Mama Murphy before heading out. She was sitting in the chair Sturges and I made for her.

"You need the Sight? It's telling me mentats will give us the right high for another insight into your destiny."

I searched through my bag eagerly and found a tin of mentats that I salvaged and gave her some.

"Ah, that's it. I can feel the Sight opening up. I can only see that you are on the right path. If you had any doubts in your mind, you shouldn't. The man you're after. He's the one. He wears all the pain he's caused like a shield. Be strong, kid . . . The sight's getting . . . foggy . . . but your energy is glowing brighter than you know. You can win this. He can't hurt you anymore."

I took in all that she said. I pondered her words, but her coughs brought me out of my reverie.

"Don't mind me kid." She coughed again. "The chems are just . . . acting up a bit . . . I'll be fine, eventually."

"Are you alright?"

"Just tired. The Sight takes a toll on ya."

I told her to take care. I tried to sneak back out before Preston knew I was there. I didn't know where he was, so we found Dogmeat quickly and made for the bridge again. I knew he was going to ask me if I did that Minutemen thing, which I had been ignoring. I have my own problems to deal with. I'm one step closer to finding my son . . .

After we got halfway to Diamond City, we showed Dogmeat the cigar.

"Get the scent, boy," I told him, scratching his ears.

He panted happily, then smelled the cigar. He turned very serious as he followed the trail. I jogged to keep up with the dog in front of me, Nick in tow quite a few steps behind me. Dogmeat led us to an area past an old store called Hardware Town and barked excitedly.

"Hmm. Kellogg must have stopped here," Nick said when he caught up to me. "Search around. See if we can pick up the trail."

By the broken road, there was an old, rusted car. Beside it, a small pond that had been caused by a dip in the earth and rainwater. Someone set up a chair and a makeshift table on a large piece of wood next to the pond. I searched the table by the chair, and sure enough, there was an ashtray with a half-smoked cigar.

"Did Dogmeat pick up the scent again?"

"San Francisco Sunlights. Kellogg's preferred brand alright." I showed it to Dogmeat. "What do you think, boy? Enough to go on?"

He barked and took off past the pond. He started following the railroad tracks up the hill. It felt like the tracks were going to go on forever. We were ambushed by some tunneling molerats, but we took them out easily. We only followed the tracks for about five minutes after we disposed of the molerats until Dogmeat suddenly veered off to the right.

He headed for a stairway built into the concrete bridge. At the end of the stairs was a sidewalk and the main road that went underneath said bridge. It was littered with old cars and motorcycles that had been abandoned for the last two centuries. Dogmeat barked when he came to the wall under the other side of the bridge.

There sat an oil lamp, still lit. On the rail by the wall was a bloodied rag, as if left to dry. Dogmeat whimpered.

"Bloodied bandages?"

"I'm tellin' ya, that nose is second to none." Nick lit a cigarette.

I showed the bandage to Dogmeat. He was off in a flash this time. Kellogg's blood was obviously a stronger scent than cigars or beer. We had to step over the body of a raider as we entered the staircase; it was no doubt the reason we found the bloodied bandage.

We were back to following the tracks, picking up where we left off. We ran into three wild mongrels who were attacking both us and Dogmeat, viciously biting and clawing at our legs. One jumped on my back as I was defending Dogmeat and bit me on the shoulder. Nick shot the mongrel off of me and put a bullet in his eye.

I panted and held onto my bloodied shoulder. Nick applied a stimpak to me from his coat pocket. I was instantly starting to feel better. My wounds were healing within seconds. Stimpaks were incredible, and a necessity when traveling the wastes, I had learned.

We came across a small warehouse. It was small enough to fit a bedroom or two inside. When we entered, Dogmeat had already disappeared down a stairway. It spiraled down, down, down, until it led out to a tunnel of sorts. The tunnel led onto a road, and the road went on outside. Dogmeat barked as we emerged. He was standing next to yet another chair.

"Gwinnett Stout," I showed Nick. "One of his creature comforts."

Again, I showed the evidence to Dogmeat and he picked up the trail again. We made our way down the road. We were completely out in the open now – no trees or wooded areas to hide behind. No tall buildings, either. Just us, the open road, and a few cars and downed trees. It was still pitch black outside, too. I didn't even feel tired. I was fully aware and alert to my surroundings. The only thing on my mind was to find Kellogg and get answers, and, hopefully, find Shaun.

We walked across a bridge that ran over the river. On the other side, eighteen-wheelers and other trucks were turned over as if a wreck had happened. Then, Dogmeat stopped dead in his tracks and growled.

I held my gun at the ready, knowing to trust Dogmeat's instincts. Then, there were familiar growls and moans coming from underneath the trucks. We found ourselves surrounded by ghouls. Nick and I started popping off rounds as quick as we could.

"Go for the legs!" he yelled to me.

It wasn't a bad idea. These ghouls were incredibly fast on their feet. Just a few shots to the legs, and their rotting appendages would just fall right off. They weren't so scary when they couldn't run at you.

When we disposed of the ghouls, Dogmeat led on.

We passed a nice little town – or what used to be a nice little town before the war – and heard some robotic voice calling out about "critical signs." Fortunately, Dogmeat led us right up to the noise.

A robot was lying on the ground; one I had only seen a few times on television when they talked about the war.

"Damn," Nick muttered, "hell of a party happened here . . ."

"What is that?"

"An assaultron. A dangerous robot to be sure."

It didn't look so dangerous up close. Dogmeat was practically sitting next to it, panting happily. Upon inspection, I noticed that the assaultron's head, torso, and arms were dismembered completely. Sparks flew from its body.

"Attention assailant," it commanded. "Lower your weapons immediately. Tracking known adversary. Exercise extreme caution.

I examined its head. "What have we here?"

"Error. System corrupt. . . . I can't feel my legs."

"What happened here?" I asked it.

"Error. Operator deceased. Threat level Omega. He . . . killed . . . us."

"We're still on track," Nick noted. "Hopefully he's not much further."

Dogmeat took off again, leading us further into the wasteland than I had ever been before. We went straight down the road, then took a right. We went down that road for a short time until Dogmeat veered off to the left and sent us walking up a dirt hill. We stopped at a rusty old chain link fence. Another bloody rag hung from the broken end.

Dogmeat barely gave me enough time to show him the bloodied rag. He took off in an instant. We walked past the Greater Mass Blood Clinic and Fort Hagen. To my surprise, Fort Hagan's doorstep is where he stopped.

"Is this the place?" I asked the barking canine. "Is he in here, boy?"

"I knew Dogmeat would sniff our man out. Let's you and I take it from here. Give our four-legged friend a break."

"Go back to Sanctuary, Dogmeat. I'll see you later."

He barked happily and took off in the direction of Sanctuary.

Nick approached me. "Dogmeat did a heck of a job. This is the place. Kellogg's somewhere inside. Front entrance is boarded up, though. Maybe there's another way in?"

Just then, super mutants attacked from across the street. They were holed up in the old bar there. We didn't even see them in the dark.


	10. Ch 10: Wasteland Survival 101

**Chapter 10**

 **Wasteland Survival 101**

* * *

The super mutants were on top of us in no time. There were at least five of them. One in particular was charging toward us, and an annoying beeping sound was coming from his arm.

"Suicider! Get back!" Nick grabbed me by the shoulders and shoved me out of the way. The mutant suicider was running right toward him. He rolled out of the way just in time for the mutant to swerve past him. The mutant turned to look, confused at where Nick had went. Before he could pursue him again, the bomb went off, knocking Nick back about six feet.

All the while, super mutants were shooting at us with machine guns and hunting rifles. Nick crawled his way to the wall I was hiding behind. We leaned up against the building with our backs to it.

"At least they don't have missile launchers."

My eyes went wide. I didn't even think about such heavy artillery being out here in the wastes.

"Okay, here's what we do. It's a two-parter," he said.

I listened intently, waiting for a plan.

"Part one: we get the hell outta here. Fast."

I stared at him blankly. He grabbed me by my wrist with his skeletal metal hand and pulled me away from the wall. I wasn't going to complain. The first time I was able to run from a fight rather than make a stand. I was exhausted and low on ammo again.

Once we were out of harm's way, we stopped to catch our breath on the outskirts of the city. We bent over, hands on our knees, panting for air.

"Okay, second part: we get you prepared."

"What? Kellogg is right there in that building. Are we just going to walk away now? I can't do that! I need to find Shaun!"

"Nora, listen to me. Kellogg's not going anywhere. And if your son's in there with him, he's not going anywhere, either. They're holed up. Tight. Kellogg's keeping himself under lock and key." He lit another cigarette. "I gotta tell ya, you weren't much of a backup partner. I can tell you don't know your way around a gun like you should."

"I'm learning," I protested.

He shook his head. "How much ammo you got left? Enough to take on Kellogg? Keep in mind that we found the assaultron he demolished on his way here. Imagine what he'll do to you if you're not prepared."

I grumbled and looked away from him. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I was weak. I didn't know what I was doing.

"You knucklehead. You're going to get yourself killed. You're no good to Shaun dead."

"Suggestions?"

"Go train yourself. Get strong. Practice. Teach yourself how to scavenge. Hell, ask someone to show you the ropes."

"Why can't you?"

"Well . . ." he looked down at his coat. It was ripped at the seam below his armpit and there was a faint blotch of black oil.

"Oh! Nick, are you okay?"

"I'll be fine. I just gotta rest up. Maybe see a mechanic." He started making his way down the road again, and I followed. "You need to get yourself back to Sanctuary and rest, too."

"Fine. I guess I should."

"Here's where we part ways, then."

The sun was just beginning to rise over the hills. Our surroundings were beginning to gain a blueish glow in appearance. In another hour or so, the sun would be high enough to turn the tops of the trees orange with sunlight, and the air would warm up. I had been running around so much, I didn't even notice how cold it had gotten.

"I'll see you around, Nora." Nick held out his hand to me.

I shook it. "Thanks for everything, Nick. I'll see you in Diamond City when I learn anything new."

"Sounds like a plan. Stay safe."

He turned to go. He straightened his hat, put his hands in his pants pockets, and conjured a trail of smoke from the cigarette between his lips.

I checked my pip-boy to figure out where I was going. I felt better traveling now that the sun was coming up. Although, I hadn't been by myself this far out in the wastes before. I talked myself into going on to Sanctuary, anyway. Nick said I had to learn. Traveling by myself was something else I had to learn. I didn't want to bother him anymore than I already had.

According to my pip-boy, Sanctuary was directly north from where I was. So I made my way there. The trip back home was not pleasant. The only places of note that I came across were either really boring or really dangerous. Fort Hagen Filling Station was the first place I came across. Next, I found a radio tower called "Relay Tower 0BB-915." I marked both on my map.

There was a tiny swamp that I passed on my way, as well. It was so irradiated that I nearly doubled over from it. The Geiger counter on the pip-boy was going crazy. It counted two rads a second, then four, then seven, then ten. I was feeling the full effects of radiation for the first time.

I searched my bag when I got away from the swamp for a bag of radaway. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with it. Was I supposed to drink it? Insert it into my veins somehow with a syringe? I just pulled the plastic tube open on the bag and decided to drink it. It had a bitter, nasty taste to it, but I was feeling better in no time. My Geiger counter was showing zero rads.

 _Already learning the hard way._

The area not far north from the tiny swamp was the Federal Ration Stockpile, which had been completely taken over by raiders. They almost saw me before I turned and ran towards the east. I went around, and found myself back on the main road. Maybe it was for the best.

Or so I thought.

To the left side of the main road I was walking, there was what seemed to be a circle of cars all stood up and built to look similar to Stone Hinge. Walking around in the center of it was a behemoth super mutant – a super mutant of the ugliest, meanest, strongest kind. I had only ever heard of them on the news of course, being used as weapons just like all the other super mutants. But these were so deadly and uncontrollable that the creation of such creatures was completely banned.

This behemoth spotted me and roared a low, deep, loud roar. It sent a chill through me. It started running toward me faster than I thought possible. It threw rocks at me bigger than my head. I took off in a dead sprint in the opposite direction.

Once he gave up on following me, I collapsed on the ground. I heaved for breath. Once I had caught up on my breathing and my legs were rested, I checked my pip-boy again. I had gotten completely turned around. I almost wound up back at the Stockpile.

I decided to head straight north, even if it meant walking uneven terrain and climbing a few rocks. Which I later found out was almost just as bad as following the main road. I was attacked by giant crabs that shot up out of the ground. Their eggs hatched upon just walking up close to them. The babies attacked my legs and feet, while the big ones ran toward me, claws outstretched.

Again, I found myself running for my life.

I finally came upon Gorski Cabin and started making my way toward Sanctuary again. This route took me straight through a farmstead, but I didn't care. I marked it on my map as "farmstead" and made a mental note to figure out the real name of it later. And then, there it was. Sanctuary was right across the river.

I had half a mind to just swim there. When my legs touched the water, though, I felt radiation nipping at my skin. I quickly jumped back out of the water and sighed.

 _Gotta take the long way._

I walked all the way around until I could get to the bridge. I was home free once my feet touched the wood of the bridge. I couldn't have felt more relieved. Sturges had built machine gun turrets next to the bridge to further protect Sanctuary.

Preston was fairly close to the bridge as I was coming up. He stood on a makeshift lookout post with his gun hoisted.

"General?"

I just laughed. It was one of those laughs that made you question your sanity.

Preston rushed off the lookout post and came running toward me. "Where were you? What happened? You look like you've been through Hell."

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. I just passed out right there in the road. I faintly felt Preston catch me before my head hit the concrete. I could feel my body being moved moments later. I was lifted through the air. I couldn't move my limbs. I couldn't speak. I could only breathe and lay there with my eyes closed. Then, everything just faded out, as if I had fallen asleep.

When I came to, I was in my living room on my couch. It was dusk already. Preston sat in the armchair across from my couch in the living room and Codsworth was in the kitchen, hovering nearby, waiting for me to wake up.

Preston looked like he was about to fall asleep, too. I cleared my throat weakly and he stirred awake.

"Oh, General. You're awake. Jesus. You gave us a scare."

"What happened?" I asked. I sat up with one hand on my head, trying to steady myself. I noticed that my shoes were off, my bag was on the floor next to me, and I had been covered with Preston's jacket.

I suddenly felt uncomfortable knowing his jacket was draped over me. I took it off of me and handed it back to him. He looked funny without it on.

"You were out for hours," he explained. "You passed out in the street as soon as you set foot in town."

I remembered then. I remembered all the horrors I endured to get back to Sanctuary. Tears started to fill my eyes. "Preston, it was . . . just . . . awful."

"What happened?" He looked genuinely concerned. He laced his fingers together and waited for me to regain my composure. He was patient with me.

"I went to Diamond City like Mama Murphy said. I met Nick Valentine, a detective, and he and Dogmeat helped me find out where the man who took my son is. He's somewhere in Fort Hagen. And I was totally unprepared. I was almost out of ammo. I don't have anymore stimpaks. I . . . just felt so useless and weak."

Preston just nodded and listened as I spoke.

"Nick told me to go back home and rest. I spent all morning and some of the day trying to get back. I was chased by raiders and giant crabs and a behemoth."

"Damn . . ."

"I got radiation poisoning and scrapes and bruises, and now I've got a splitting headache."

Preston sighed. "I hate to say it, but the things you just described are things that happen on a day-to-day basis in the wasteland. We face those things every moment we aren't in the safety of our settlement."

I just stared at him, wanting to cry all over again. I had to endure these horrors every time I ventured out there? Everything just kept getting worse.

As I started to cry, Preston floundered. "I mean, not to say that what happened to you wasn't horrible, Nora. I assure you. You had it pretty bad. A behemoth? Those are rare. But . . . I just don't want you to get the wrong idea. With some practice and know-how, you'll be wasteland ready in no time. Me and Sturges could teach you a few things."

I groaned, rubbing my temples. It still hurt pretty bad on the side that hit the shelf, thanks to that thug. "I don't think I'm ready to learn anything tonight. I just want to rest . . ."

"Of course." He stood up and shrugged his coat back on. "Let me know if there's anything you need, General."

As he left, I rolled my eyes at him. "General" this. And "General" that. It was all he seemed to care for. His heart was in the right place, but he was setting the bar insanely high.

"Mum." Codsworth floated over toward me. "If I may, I would like to point out that it is a wonderful idea that you're willing to learn new things. That's the spirit of a survivor! And let me just express my worry when Sir Preston carried you in here. I immediately applied a cold compress, a stimpak, and some radaway for you, but that was all I could do. You don't know how happy I am that you finally came to, Mum!"

"Thanks, Codsworth. I was just having a rough go."

"What about Mister Valentine? Wasn't he with you?"

"I told him he could go back to Diamond City if he wanted to, and I made my way back home alone."

"If I had a brow, it would be most furrowed, Mum. Never travel alone."

"I know that now. I promise I won't do it again." I rubbed at my temples again.

"Shall I get a med-x for your pain, Mum?"

"Sure. I need some rest . . ."

Codsworth brought a med-x from one of the kitchen cabinets. I had noticed that he took it upon himself to get a medicine cabinet going. I smiled. He was always thinking about my well-being. He put the med-x in my hand. I raised my sleeve and stuck the needle in my arm. It made me queasy. I never did like needles. After pushing the plunger as far as it would go, I instantly started to feel better.

I put the syringe on the floor beside the couch and laid down again. Codsworth left the room, mentioning something about helping Sturges finish a project. Then, I remembered the holotape that Codsworth gave me after I left the vault. I stuck my hand in my bag and looked for it. There it was, on the bottom, covered in other junk that I had found.

I put it in the tape player on my pip-boy and waited for it to start up.

There was a screech from a microphone. Nate's voice. _"Oops."_ He chuckled. In the background, I could hear our baby cooing happily. _"No, no, no. Little fingers away . . . there we go . . . just a minute . . ."_ He cleared his throat.

My heart was already breaking.

 _"Hi, honey,"_ he addressed the recorder. _"Listen, I don't think Shaun and I need to tell you how great of a mother you are. But we're going to anyway. You are kind and loving and funny. And patient. So patient. The patience of a saint – as your mother used to say. Look, with Shaun, and with all of us being home together, it's been an amazing year. Even so, I know our best days are yet to come. There will be changes, sure, things we'll need to adjust to. I'll rejoin the civilian work force, you'll shake the dust off your law degree. But everything we do, no matter how hard, we do it for our family. Now, say goodbye, Shaun. 'Bye-bye.' Say, 'bye-bye!' Bye, honey. We love you."_

It felt surreal. It was like receiving a message from the grave. Like they were telling me goodbye in their own way. Tears were flowing now, as they had been all along. My heart ached more than it ever has.

 _No,_ I thought, _Shaun's still out there. He hasn't said goodbye yet._

I reached in my pocket for Nate's ring and examined it. I clutched it in my hands and curled up on the couch.

 _I love you, Nate. Goodbye._

* * *

The next morning, I awoke early. The sun was just starting to come up. I had slept most of the day yesterday, so I was feeling energetic, if not a little depressed as usual. I met up with Sturges and asked him a few questions about learning how to make blueprints of my own. He showed me the materials I'd need. Paper, pencil, ruler, things like that. He said that the two most important things I'd need were knowledge and practicality.

"You need to know what you're building and how to build it," he explained. "And you can't just make any ole' thing out of the blue; it has to be practical. Rational. Legit."

He showed me a few of his blueprints to start off. He made out a quick one from the top of his head for some indoor plumbing. I was thoroughly impressed. It only took him a few minutes to whip up the blueprint. He even explained to me how it works once it's built.

Next, he showed me a few things about scavenging and how to find what you need out there in the wastes. "Our two main resources are wood and steel, because they're everywhere. However, our most important resources, and the ones we never have enough of are copper and circuitry. They're what 'makes the world go round,' so to speak. Without those, we can't make anything electrical. That means no power, no light, and no major defenses."

He showed me parts of scrap in his shed that he loved finding. Hotplates, telephones, pieces of broken turrets, all were important. He also mentioned that we would use a lot of oil, depending on the blueprint, so I kept that in mind as well.

Later that evening, Preston said he was going to go out and hunt for tonight's meal. I offered to go with him. He was objective at first, insisting that I needed my rest, but I convinced him that I was fine. I wasn't too excited about hunting, but it was important enough to learn.

He took me to the outskirts of the town and into the woods up the hill. He showed me how to hold a gun, wrapping his arms around me and putting my hands in the right position on the 10mm pistol. I shrugged off the uncomfortable feelings and focused on my aim.

He pointed at a few molerats about fifteen feet away as we crouched in a bush. I gave him a look that plainly said "you can't be serious," but he urged me to take the shot anyway. I positioned my arms and hands the way he showed me, and sure enough, I hit one. The shot made it through its neck, but it was still a close head shot. We took on the other three together. He showed me how to skin them and then clean them once we got back to Sanctuary. Then, he showed me how to cook them. We were having molerat stew for dinner. He threw in a few vegetables from our little farm out back and stirred it with an old ladle.

It seemed almost disgusting at first. Then, I started smelling it. My stomach growled. I forgot how hungry I was. Sturges grabbed a few bottles of purified water and handed them out to each of us. Preston, Sturges, myself, Mama Murphy, Jun, and Marcy were all gathered around the fire once again for dinner. We thanked Preston for the meal. Preston reflected the praise back on me, saying that I hunted for dinner myself. Everyone but Marcy approved. I don't know why she disliked me so much.

That night, I slept on my old, dusty couch again, holding Nate's ring.

Every day went on like that for about a week or so. Preston and I went on some Minutemen missions, helping settlements and gaining their support. I was on edge, wondering when I'd learn enough to take on my worst enemy. Every day, I thought about that face I saw in the vault through the window of my cryo-pod. That sickening face.

 _At least we still have the backup . . ._

I couldn't take it anymore. I marched up to Preston at his post and motioned him down.

"What's wrong, General?"

"I think I'm ready to head back out. I don't think there's anymore that any of you can teach me. I'm like a sitting duck here. Shaun's out there somewhere. I have to get back to Fort Hagen."

"I understand."

"I would like you to come with me to that settlement you said that needed our help. It would be a good warm up. And I've been promising you that I'd take care of it."

"Sure thing, General." He beamed.

We made our way to the Starlight Drive-In. It was interesting to me that there could be a settlement at the same drive-in that Lucy and I often went to before the bombs fell. I marked it on my pip-boy map as soon as we got there.

It was infested with molerats. They didn't even bother me anymore. They were just moving targets that sometimes bit you. We cleared them out in no time, but we soaked up some rads while we were there. There was a deep hole in the concrete there that contained a puddle. In the puddle were barrels of radioactive isotopes.

I picked the lock on the door at the shed to the side of the drive-in and gained access to a workbench there. That's when I realized there were no people here.

"Where's all the people?" I asked. "I thought we were helping a settlement."

Preston smiled. "No, we're _making_ a settlement. Let's get this place cleaned up, then we can get a radio beacon up and get some settlers moved in."

Preston gave me a pill called "rad-x" to keep me from soaking up more rads, because my Geiger counter was going crazy near those barrels of radiation. We pulled all the barrels out of the little sinkhole and rolled them far away from the drive-in. Then, it was time for a radaway break. We spent the next hour cleaning up the inside a little and putting whatever we found to eat or drink on the shelves for the people who decided to settle there.

All except for a canister of potato crisps. I pocketed those, because, sweet Jesus, I missed my junk food.

I told Preston he could go on back to Sanctuary, because I felt confident enough to make the trip back to Diamond City on my own.


	11. Ch 11: To Kill a Killer

**Chapter 11**

 **To Kill a Killer**

* * *

As I entered Diamond City, Nat was calling from her soap box as usual. This time, she pointed at me directly with her newspaper when I came close.

"Hey, lady!" she called.

"What's up, Nat?"

"That interview you did with Piper is really selling. Here's your free copy."

"Oh, thanks." I was curious about it myself. I sat down on a nearby bench and started reading.

 _"PUBLICK OCCURRENCES_

 _"View from the Vault by Piper Wright_

 _"Whenever I take a walk through Diamond City, there are so many things people tell me to be grateful for. Purified water, working lights, electricity, security. True, what we have would have been unthinkable even a few decades ago. But it's easy to forget that, even after all the progress we have made, we are still living in the shadow of the world that was. A world before the threat of radiation. Before the super mutant and the feral ghoul and the synth._

 _"So, as fortune often has it, I crossed paths with Nora. Vault Dweller. A person who is experiencing the Commonwealth for the first time. What would her fresh set of eyes say about how far we've come? Is Diamond City the 'Great Green Jewel' we have always claimed it to be?_

 _"Before we begin to answer that question, we have to know who Nora is. Where she comes from. To my surprise, she did not have much to say about her life in the Vault at all. Because she spent all that time staring at a piece of frozen glass. Everyday. For over two centuries. That's right, Nora isn't just a Vault Dweller, she's an original Vault Dweller. She spent her entire time on the inside cryogenically suspended._

 _"So what does Nora have to say about seeing Diamond City for the first time? 'Can you even compare the two? The world out here? It's not even close to the one I left.'_

 _"While we like to think of our city as a shining jewel, it's worth remembering that not everyone comes here by choice. Sometimes people are forced from the comforts of their homes, and as the largest settlement in the Commonwealth, this is where they end up. Most are just looking for refuge, but sometimes they come here desperately looking for something. Or someone._

 _"You see, Nora has a son. Shaun. And even though they were in the relative safety of a Vault, someone broke in and took Shaun from his parent, and that parent is now risking everything, wandering through this strange and unfriendly world of ours – in order to save Shaun from his kidnappers._

 _"We all know the rumors and whispers that surround every missing person in Diamond City. The guilty looks we pass to mourning family members as we 'thank the Wall that, this time, it wasn't us.' You can end up dead in the Commonwealth for a million reasons. Why spend our time worrying about kidnappings?_

 _"It's easy for us to be cynical about the missing. We have spent so long knowing the Institute is out there, but knowing so little about them. They are not the only ones responsible for kidnappings, but the fact that they sometimes are, and the fact that we have been so powerless to stop them when they do, causes us to treat all victims of kidnappings as if they are a lost cause._

 _"But the people left behind, those loved ones, friends, and neighbors, who may never see the faces of those taken from them again, they do not have the luxury of being able to just look away. They have to carry that lost with them, even if everyone else tells them to move on and forget._

 _"I asked Nora to make a statement to Diamond City. To give us an outsider's perspective on what it means to lose a loved one, and how she feels. Maybe, in some way, it's how we all should feel. Maybe we've forgotten what the right, human response to these tragedies are._

 _"'No matter how much you want to give up, don't.' She said. 'You have to hope. That you'll see them again. Or at least, that you'll know the truth.'_

 _"End."_

A touching piece for sure. I wiped a tear from my eye and reminded myself to go by and thank her once all of this was done. I stood up and shoved the paper into my bag. Then, I made my way to Nick's office.

Ellie was still trying to get me to take on cases for Nick as his partner. Nick didn't seem too enthusiastic about the notion, and I, for one, was too busy with my own problems. I just told Nick that I was ready to face Kellogg, and he wasted no time meeting me at the door. He waved his secretary goodbye, and we were gone.

We took a different route to Fort Hagen this time around. I was more prepared. Preston taught me quite a bit about shooting a gun. Nick and I made our way down winding roads through the Commonwealth, ultimately headed west. We passed the old Chestnut Hillock Reservoir, Mass Pike Tunnel West, and just kept following the railroad tracks from there.

There was a triggerman walking the tracks in our direction. "Hey there, doll," he said in a smooth tone. "If you're interested in making some easy scratch, my boss is putting together a crew for a new job."

"What's this . . . job?"

"You gotta get the details from Bobbi. You know, Bobbi No-Nose in Goodneighbor. I don't know nothin' else about it."

He walked away before I had the chance to ask anymore questions.

"I'd stay as far away from Goodneighbor as possible," said Nick. "Nothin' but trouble there."

I shrugged off the whole experience and kept heading in the direction of Fort Hagen.

Again, we were interrupted. In the tunnel underneath the railroad tracks, we heard voices. When we looked down, some raiders were trying to extort some farmers out of their money. When the farmers said they couldn't pay, the raiders decided to open fire and kill the farmers. The farmers tried to defend themselves, but one took a wound to the head. He was dead within seconds.

Nick and I wasn't about to sit around and watch. We jumped in and started taking out the raiders from the other side of the tunnel. We filled them with lead until every one of them was lying on the pavement.

"You saved our lives," said a farmer. "I . . . thank you. Thank you."

The second and only other remaining farmer approached me as well. "Thanks, stranger. That's more than most would have done."

I shook their hands and gave them each a bottle of purified water for their trip.

Nick smiled. "You okay to keep going? I don't eat or sleep or anything like that. But if you need to, you do it."

"I'm fine. We need to get going before it gets dark."

"All right, lead the way."

We continued our trek yet again. We passed Relay Tower 1DL-109, a dam on the river, city ruins, and many enemies. It was like the world was trying to keep me from reaching Kellogg. I wasn't about to let anything stop me.

Once we finally got back to Fort Hagen, Nick suggested climbing up to the roof to see if there was a way in. And, lo and behold, there it was. A hatch was situated on the far side, and we climbed in.

As soon as we entered, synths that looked a lot like Nick had their guns on us. "Kellogg's secure facility infiltrated. Termination – required."

"Get behind something," said Nick as he pushed me against the wall to dodge incoming lasers.

We fired repeatedly at the synths. They weren't really a challenge. They were about as weak as raiders. I expected them to at least put up more resistance.

"Fort Hagen is under Institute protection. Terminating intruder."

 _Institute? It was the Institute after all?_

One synth started running directly up to me from my hiding spot behind the metal filing cabinets. I panicked and just started firing off bullets from my 10mm. It caught his hand and knocked the metal off, exposing the steel skeleton, much like Nick's. It didn't deter the synth. It ran at me and scratched my face, drawing blood from the tips of his metallic fingers. I felt a deep cut across my lips.

The metallic fingers got caught in my hair. Nick quickly ran to my aid, but I had already drawn my gun up to the synth's face and blew his head off. Metal parts flew everywhere.

Nick helped me untangle the synth's hand from my hair. I whimpered as it pulled strand after strand from my scalp.

"You okay, kid?" he asked, running his own fingers through the tangled mess.

I nodded, wiping the blood from my lip with a brave face. Nothing would deter me.

We continued on. Nothing was going to stop me from finding Kellogg. I was so close now. The synths were still swarming us, however. The deeper we went into the fort, the more synths there were. I had remembered that I had pocketed some frag grenades. I didn't want to wind up blowing us all up with them, so I gave them to Nick to toss at a group of them inside the next room.

When I ran out of bullets for my 10mm, I grabbed one of the Institute laser rifles from the body of a synth and started using it.

"If we survive this, I owe you a stiff drink," said Nick when it finally started to calm down. He lit a cigarette and examined the center room. We didn't have anywhere else to go. He expertly searched for anything we could use, any clues to be found, any potential traps.

He disarmed a mine on the floor. "Remember. Kellogg's a professional. He won't make it easy." He pocketed the mine for himself and continued his search.

I motioned to the terminal on the wall. "Think you can unlock that terminal?"

"Done and done." He cracked his synthetic knuckles and got to work. He made hacking look so easy. "There we are," he said and stepped back from the terminal. "Always had a way with machines."

I checked out the terminal for myself. It had two options. One was to unlock a door, and the other was to turn off all turrets in the building. I chose both. There was a door at the end of the room that unlocked for us. It looked like a caged security room of sorts. Inside were two ammo cases and some stimpaks. We had hit the jackpot.

When we couldn't find anything else, we entered the elevator next to the caged security room. It only seemed to take us down one floor. It led to an eerie hallway lit up with a red caution light and exposed pipes on the wall. Trash littered the floor.

"If I got the chills, this would be the place to provide 'em," Nick said with an eerie tone.

There were already synths in a far room at the end of the hall, waiting on us. We made quick work of them and kept going. Then a voice sounded on a loudspeaker overhead that sent chills through me, down to my bones.

"Well, if it isn't my old friend, the frozen TV dinner. Last time we met, you were cozying up to the peas and apple cobbler."

 _Kellogg._

"Where the hell are you?!" I yelled. There was no answer.

Further down the hall, after opening two more doors, disposing of two more turrets, and dodging an electrical trap, his voice sounded again.

"Sorry _your_ house has been a wreck for two-hundred years. But I don't need a roommate. Leave."

The double doors ahead led to Fort Hagen's command center.

"Hmph. Never expected you to come knocking on my door. Gave you 50/50 odds of making it to Diamond City. After that? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky."

"Keep your guard up," Nick whispered, gun drawn. "He might try to ambush us . . ."

We crept down another corridor and more synths awaited us. We made quick work of them, too. Rage was filling every fiber of my body now. The more I heard his voice, the more I wanted to demolish my enemies. I made almost flawless work of it, too.

"Look, you're pissed off. I get it. I do. But whatever you hope to accomplish in here – it's not gonna go your way."

 _What's that supposed to mean?_

We came across the barracks with another terminal inside. No doubt, it was meant to open the locked door in the room beside it. I had Nick to hack the lock, and he seemed impressed by it.

"This is some serious security," he noted. With a few minutes of concentration, he was able to unlock the door in the other room.

It was a door to another security cage. To our disappointment, it was only locked up so tight because there were stacks of old prewar money inside in a broken safe. We found a bottle of purified water and a stimpak, though, so it wasn't a total loss.

We pressed on. It felt like a dangerous maze that just kept going on and on. It felt like we'd never reach the end of it.

We came to a tunnel in the lower levels, again lit up by red caution lights.

His voice again. "You got guts and determination, and that's admirable. But you are in over your head in ways that you can't possibly comprehend. It's not too late. Stop. Turn around and leave. You have that option. Not a lot of people can say that."

I can't turn back now. He's just trying to psych me out.

Behind yet another locked gate, there was an enormous gun. Nick whistled in astonishment. "Be very careful with that," he said. "That's a 'fat man' – a mini nuke launcher. Your enemies can kiss their asses goodbye with something like this in your arsenal. You may want to take it. Kellogg wouldn't know what hit him."

I picked up the gun, which was extremely heavy. I hoisted it up on my shoulder after inserting the mini nuke and marched out of the room. Nick pocketed the medical supplies that was laying around. Stimpaks, rad-x, and radaway.

With my 10mm holstered, a fat man on my shoulder, and my bag of meds slung over my back, I was more than ready to face Kellogg and whatever he could throw at me.

We passed living quarters. It was complete with a bed, a kitchen area, a living room, furniture, and a bathroom. There by the bedside table was a cigar, a bottle of vodka, and a magazine. Kellogg had a cozy setup here. At the end of the line was a little red door.

Inside was a rounded room, full of old furniture and other junk.

Kellogg snickered over the loudspeaker. "Heh. Okay. You made it. I'm just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let's talk."

"We're close," said Nick. "I can almost smell that old merc's cigars."

The security door in front of us opened on it's own. Remote access via Kellogg, I presumed. He was practically inviting me inside. He wasn't scared of me at all, and that made me nervous.

Down a hall and up a few stairs, another door awaited us, which was remotely opened for us as well. Another invitation. My heart stopped when we looked on the other side of the door. There, in a dark room, the lights turned on as if on cue. The armed synths came out from their hiding place. Kellogg stepped out with his gun in hand, but his arms were raised over his head as if to plea "don't shoot."

"And there she is," he muttered. "The most resilient woman in the Commonwealth."

I approached him with caution, Nick guarding my back.

"Let's . . . talk . . ."

"You murdering, kidnapping psychopath." My words were laced with as much venom as I could muster. "Give me my son. Give me Shaun! Now!"

"Right to it, huh? Okay. Fine. Your son, Shaun. Great kid. A little older than you may have expected, but I'm guessing you figured that out by now. But if you're hoping for a happy reunion, it ain't gonna happen. Your boy's not here."

"Tell me where he is, damn it!"

"Fine. I guess you've earned that much." He sighed an exasperated sigh. "Shaun's in a safe place. A place where he's safe, and comfortable, and loved. A place he calls home. The Institute."

"The Institute?" My mind swam with more questions – questions I knew that Kellogg wasn't kind enough to answer. How old was he really? Was he safe? Was he well taken care of? Who was taking care of him? Did he ever ask about me? Why did the Institute have him in the first place? Did they do anything to him? Instead, I looked him dead in the eye, and said, "Well, I'll find him no matter where he is. Nothing will stop me."

"God, you're persistent. I give you credit. It's the way a parent _should_ act. The way I'd be acting if I were in your place, I'd like to think. Even if it is useless." He shrugged and changed his tone completely. "But I think we've been talking long enough. We both know how this has to end. So. You ready?"

Something in me changed then. Something snapped. Whether it was because of the godforsaken wasteland, the stress, the rage, or the sickening feeling I got at the look of genuine apology on his face . . . for the first time in my life, I was ready for bloodshed.

"I'm gonna make you suffer," I hissed.

Everything changed then. The room went from tense to full-on hostile. I jumped behind a desk as fast as I could with the fat man in my arm, blue lasers and Kellogg's revolver bullets flying. Nick was already firing at the synths behind me and ducked for cover behind some metal crates. He kicked a Gen-1 synth out of the way and shot him in its synthetic heart. Lasers nicked my shoulders and ribs as everyone aimed for me.

I aimed the fat man as well as I could. As soon as the mini nuke was launched, I had enough time to see the panic on his face before ducking down behind the desk again and take cover. I heard the explosion and felt the force of the nuke push the desk against my body. I dug a rad-x out of my bag hastily and swallowed it dry just in case.

Nick fired at the last synth left standing. As I heard it clatter against the floor in a lifeless heap, I stood up slowly and glanced around the room.

Nick blew on the tip of his pistol and holstered it. "Good job. That bastard won't be hurting anyone else. We should look around. Find all the intel this place can hide."

I dropped the fat man to the floor and just fell to my knees in shock, taking in everything that just happened. I felt as though I was about to start hyperventilating. Nick didn't leave my side for a moment. Instead, he kneeled beside me and held me in his arms.

"You did good, kid. It'll be alright."

We sat like that for a few moments. When I finally came back around, I didn't even feel like myself anymore. I mindlessly started searching the room for anything useful. We picked up plenty of fusion cells for my laser rifle, and even another stimpak and a canister of jet. I saved the best for last. I searched Kellogg's body and took his pistol . . . his clothes . . . everything I could find on him. It was all mine now. He took everything from me; now I'm taking everything from him.

There was something strange on the back of his ear. I put it in my vault suit pocket just in case it was a clue. He had similar gadgets on his arms.

I mumbled absently, "All this tech. You were barely human after all."

I put his clothes on over my vault suit while they were still warm, with no shame. In fact, I almost had a hint of pride. A sadistic smirk played at my lips that I tried to suppress. I could feel Nick watching and judging me. There was a password in his pocket. I used it on one of the nearby terminals – thankfully it wasn't blown to bits by the mini nuke.

 _"ACCESS LOG_

 _"Access: Local. Login: Kellogg._

 _Notes: The boy, Shaun, successfully delivered back to the Institute, payment received. New orders to track down renegade, gathered reinforcements, cleared out and secured Fort Hagen. We move out soon."_

To my dismay, there wasn't a date on the entry. I couldn't have known how old Shaun was now. Nick mentioned it back in his office that day that Kellogg had a boy with him, and Ellie said that he was around ten years old. I had a feeling that it was Shaun. But how? Was it really ten years?

I clicked on 'Security Door Control' and opened our way out.

On our way out, Nick stopped me to talk. "So, we know where your son is, but even I don't know how to find the Institute. And they built me."

"There has to be a way, Nick."

He sighed and lit a cigarette. "We're in the weeds here. Time to take a step back. Bring in some fresh eyes. Only person I know of that's willing to snoop up the Institute's tail feathers is Piper, the reporter in Diamond City. I say we head her way. Talk this through."

"How could Piper help us?" To my knowledge, she knew as little about the Institute as everyone else.

"Trust me, that dame knows a lot more than she lets on. And she lets on a lot. If I know her, she's done her homework. And we need to talk this through with someone."

"Diamond City it is."

"Hey, chin up." He puffed at his cigarette. "I know the night just got darker, but it won't last forever."

We took the elevator at the end of the hall and traveled up what seemed like six or seven floors. When we exited the elevator, there was sunlight shining through the holes in the roof of the next room. A terminal on the wall awaited us to open the door there.

Finally out of that hell hole, I breathed in the outdoor air. Then, something showed us that we weren't alone. A military blimp went right over our heads with at least four vertibirds in tow.

"People of the Commonwealth," said a deep voice over a loudspeaker. "Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are . . . the Brotherhood of Steel.

Nick stood there in a mixture of awe and dismay. "'Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing . . .'" I recognized his literary quote from Edgar Allan Poe's _The Raven_. "Flying that ship into the heart of the Commonwealth. Mark my words, the Brotherhood's here to start a war." He shoved his hands in his pockets as it drove out of sight. "Come on," he said to me, "let's go. There's nothing left for us here. This place has probably been picked cleaner than a brahmin dinner."

While we made our way down the road, we heard a thunder clapping in the distance and some other noise that almost sounded like a low-flying airplane. It rumbled, threatening us as it got closer. Nick told me to take a rad-x in case we didn't make it to Diamond City before the storm hit. I asked why, and he explained that it was a nuclear storm that was full of radiation. With every lightning strike, a wave of radiation takes hold of the body.

I quickly took my rad-x and walked with Nick in the direction of the Great Green Jewel.

The storm nearly consumed us, coloring everything in a greenish-yellow glow. There was no rain, only thunder, lightning, and radiation spikes. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen before. The rad-x definitely helped, but it was still making me nauseous. My Geiger counter spiked every time the crackle of thunder sounded overhead.

It seemed like we took a different route every time we made this trip to or from the fort. This time, I stumbled across an old vault. Vault 81. I marked it on my map and made a note to stop by there sometime, see if there were any more trapped people like me. It still looked fully intact, and it had a campsite in front of it.

The storm was over by the time we made it to Diamond City. Nat was still selling the papers about me.

"Read about the Woman out of Time! Vault dweller wakes up after two-hundred years!"

Nick and I passed her and walked into Publick Occurrences.


	12. Ch 12: Everlasting Memories

**Chapter 12**

 **Everlasting Memories**

* * *

Piper didn't seem too surprised to see us.

"Well, well. Nicky Valentine walks into my office for a change."

"What can I say, Piper? You, me, and hard luck all seem to run together like acid rain down an old sewer."

"You, uh, including your client here in that analogy?" She snickered and motioned to me. Then, for a brief moment, she took in the sight of me. "You look . . . different, Blue." Her eyes glazed over with worry and something like unfamiliarity, like she almost didn't know me.

"I'm good. Better than good." I shoved my hands in Kellogg's brown leather coat pockets. I let the spark of sin shine in my eye, and I wore it glamorously.

I saw her gulp back a sense of discomfort, and she turned to Nick. "So, you two are finally letting me in on this little case of yours. What's the story?"

"Where do you want me to start?" I countered. "The part where Kellogg turned out to be working for the Institute? Or the part where they told me they have Shaun?"

"The Institute? Hoo boy . . . I've been investigating these creeps for over a year now. The Commonwealth's boogeyman. Feared and hated by everyone."

"True enough," Nick agreed.

"Sometimes they snatch people in the middle of the night. And sometimes they leave old synths behind, reminding us that they're out there. But to this day, there's one thing nobody really knows . . ."

"Where the Institute actually is. Or how to get in." Nick finished for her.

"Exactly. But there's one person who must know, right? The guy who just handed them Shaun."

"Kellogg. Huh . . ." Nick turned to me now.

"Whatever you're thinking," I told her, "it doesn't matter. He's dead."

Nick shook his head. "Yeah. I knew he wasn't gonna go quietly the moment I saw him . . ."

"So a murderer and a kidnapper gets his brains blown out by an avenging parent." She sighed. "It'd be a great ending if we didn't still have the biggest mystery in the Commonwealth to solve."

"Doesn't matter what he knew," I growled. "I'd kill him again in a heartbeat."

 _Who am I right now?_

I could tell they both hated that notion.

"'Gets his brains blown out . . .' Huh." Nick crossed his arms. "His brains. Ya know, we may not need the man at all."

"You're talkin' crazy here, Nick. You got a fault in the old subroutines?" Piper jested.

"Look, there's a place in Goodneighbor called the Memory Den. Relive the past moments in your life as clear as the day they happened. If anyone can get a dead brain to sing, it'll be Dr. Amari, the mind behind the memories. Hmm . . . I guess we're gonna need a piece of Kellogg's brain. Enough gray matter to bring to Amari and find out if this is going to work . . ."

"Jesus, Nick . . . Gross! Seriously?" Piper objected.

"I know it's grisly, but what choice do we have?" He threw his hands up. "We got no leads. Nothing. That old merc's brain just might have all the secrets we need to know."

"Actually," I interrupted, remembering the piece of tech I got off of Kellogg's head just behind his ear. I took the gadget out of my pocket. "I think I already have something. Kellogg had this . . . thing attached to his head."

"Cybernetics, huh?" Nick half-smiled. "We may have just won the lottery."

"Whether we're riding this crazy brain train or not," Piper interjected, "we can't all go running across the Commonwealth. So, who's coming with you?"

"I have to go to the Memory Den either way, if I'm gonna introduce you to Amari," Nick interjected. "But if you wanna head there together, just say so."

Piper and Nick clearly both wanted to go. But one was going to stay behind if the other went so that we weren't all crowding up the Memory Den. Nick was my closest bet. He'd been with me through all of this, and he had my back so far. I didn't want to take a chance on Piper just yet. I felt like I needed Nick to stick by me through this case, through thick and thin. Not to mention how uncomfortable Piper was with my murderous nimbus at the moment.

"It's you and me, Nick."

"Let's get going, then. Don't worry. We're gonna get your boy back. Just a few more steps . . ."

Piper waved her hand. "While you two are out, I'm gonna do a little research. I'll be here if you need me."

As we stepped outside, Nick patted me on the back. "Even good people do crazy things when they're scared." I knew he was thinking of my random violent outbursts about Kellogg – taking his things, wishing I could kill him once or twice more. I honestly didn't care what he thought anymore. I just wanted this case solved and get my boy back. Maybe then I'd feel like my old self.

* * *

Nick had warned me to stay away from Goodneighbor. However, we had to go there if we wanted to find out where the Institute was.

There were many reasons not to go to Goodneighbor. For one, rumors of the town's people were a little less than believable. The whole town was apparently made up entirely of good-for-nothings. The road to the town was overrun with super mutants, raiders, and other hostiles. It was hard just to make it there.

We passed up a few notable landmarks on the way. Trinity Plaza, Trinity Tower, Hubris Comics, Swan Pond, Park Street Station, and more. I still had a hard time believing how everything looked. I used to go to some of these places with Nate and my friends.

Finally, there it was, behind shoddy walls to protect the civilians and a neon sign over the door.

"Goodneighbor."

"Keep your guard up," Nick warned me.

The town was actually more inviting inside than I imagined. I pictured it to look more like the buildings in the city ruins: falling apart and full of holes as big as a super mutant. These buildings were actually well kept and still mostly intact. It was the older part of Boston. The old buildings survived the fallout better than the newer buildings in the city. There was the old State House diagonally to my left, a small gun shop directly in front, and a discount store next to it. Guards who looked a lot like mafia gunners stood by the entrance of the town.

A man approached us from the gun store. "Well, well, well. It's the detective. Tracking down another wayward husband to his mistress?" His voice was low and gruff. He had pert lips and dark eyes, almost no hair on his head. He wore a leather suit of armor.

"Why, someone stand you up?" Nick retorted.

"Tryin' that, what d'ya call it? Evasive language, on me? And who are you, huh?" He turned his attention toward me and pointed at me with the hand that held his cigarette. "Valentine's new dick-in-training?"

I was already feeling oddly out of character after Kellogg. This man was just pushing my buttons now. "We're hiring, but I don't think you'd . . . measure up."

"Don't be like that. You just got the look of someone who's in the market for a little insurance."

"Insurance?"

"That's right. Insurance. Personal protection, like. You hand over everything you got in them pockets, or 'accidents' start happenin' to ya. Big, bloody 'accidents.'"

From the shadows by the State House, a raspy yet suave voice called out. "Whoa, whoa. Time out." A man – or what I thought was a man, I couldn't tell by his face – approached the hustler. He had a tri-cornered hat on with a deep red colored frock coat, like someone out of the civil war. He continued, "Nick Valentine makes a rare visit to town, and you're hassling his friend here with that extortion crap? Good to see you again, Nick," he said to my detective friend.

"Hancock." Nick tipped his hat.

 _Hancock?_

"What do you care?" said the hustler. "She ain't one of us."

"No love for your mayor, Finn? I said let her go."

"You're soft, Hancock. You keep lettin' outsiders walk all over us, one day, there'll be a new mayor."

"Come on, man. This is me we're talkin' about. Let me tell ya something." He approached the hustler, Finn, with his arms outstretched. He caught Finn's attention with his left hand in the air, and reached his right hand behind his back and swiftly pulled out a knife from his pocket. He jabbed it into Finn's gut twice and watched him crumple to the pavement. Then, Hancock wiped the blood off his blade. "Now why'd you have to go and say that, huh? Breakin' my heart over here." He turned his attention to me again. "You alright, sister?"

"You. You're . . . a Ghoul?" I had never seen a ghoul that wasn't feral before. He had most aspects of a normal human being, except his eyes were pitch black - so black, I could barely make out the pupils - and radiation scars covered his face. He had no hair, and his nose was missing, giving him a slightly skeletal look.

"That's right. Like my face? I think it gives me a sexy king-of-the-zombies kind of look. Big hit with the ladies. Listen, lots of walkin' rad freaks like me around here, so you might wanna keep those kinds of questions on the low burner next time. Goodneighbor's of the People, for the People, ya feel me? Everyone's welcome."

I grinned, surprisingly. "Of the People, for the People? Oh, brother . . ."

"Heh heh heh. I can tell I'm gonna like you already. Just consider this town your home away from home . . . so long as you remember who's in charge."

A red-headed girl in armor made of a mixture of leather and metal walked up behind Hancock. I vaguely noticed her standing by the old State House, watching the whole scene play out. Her hair was shaved on the right side, and the left side was cut short to her jawline and swept unscrupulously to the side. She followed him inside the State House, but not before she stopped and looked me up and down. "Another player in Goodneighbor. Hello, little Pawn. Welcome to our fun and games." She smirked and left Nick and I in the street.

I turned back to Nick, who was talking to a drifter by the discount store. "Well, hey there. It's been a long time. How ya holding up?"

"Nick? Oh, hey." The woman had a checked brown shirt on, a pair of capri cargo pants, and a blue bandanna on her head. She had short brown hair and a tired face. "Yeah, we're doing alright. It's hard without Gwen, but it gets easier every day."

"That's real good to hear. Well, I just wanted to check in. You ever need anything, you stop by the office."

"Sure. You got it. Thanks, Nick."

He tipped his hat at her and turned to me. "Ready to get going?" He walked me over to the Memory Den on the other side of town. Lots of drifters and the like walked around the streets. In some cases, they were sleeping on bedrolls in sheds at the end of the alleyways. It looked a lot like a slum to me.

Inside, the rooms had mostly red brick walls and red carpeting. I believed it was a theater before the war. A woman sat on a love seat in the middle of the room. She had a feather boa, a red dress, heels, and blonde hair. "Well, well. Nick Valentine. I thought you had forgotten about little ole' me."

"May have walked out of the Den, Irma, but I'd never walk out on you."

"Hmph. Amari's downstairs, you big flirt."

It was like a scene from a cheesy film.

Downstairs there were a lot of contraptions, machinery, and doctor's supplies. The doctor, a shortmiddle-ageddle aged, with black hair, stood at a counter.

"Doctor Amari?" Nick called.

"Yes?" When she saw who it was, she stopped her work. "I take it this isn't a social call."

"We need a memory dig, Amari, but it's not gonna be easy. The perp, Kellogg, is already cold on the floor."

"Are you two mad?! Putting aside the fact that you're asking me to defile a corpse, you do realize that the memory simulators require intact, _living_ brains to function?"

"Technically speaking, the corpse was defiled already," I stated.

She shot me a disgusting look.

Nick slapped himself in the forehead.

I softened my tone. "Please. Nick told me you were the only one that can make this work."

"This dead brain," he continued, "had inside knowledge of the Institute, Amari. The biggest scientific secret of the Commonwealth. You need this, and so do we."

She sighed. "Fine. I'll take a look, but no guarantees. Do you . . . have it with you?"

"Here's what I could find." I handed her the gadget.

"What's this? This isn't a brain! This is . . . wait . . ." She examined it closer. "That's the hippocampus! And this thing attached to it. A neural interface?"

"These circuits look awfully familiar," Nick said with little comfort.

"I'm not surprised. From what I've seen, all Institute technology has a similar architecture."

"So, the brain is still good, right?" I asked.

"Possibly. There's no sign of decay, so the tech is probably preserving the tissue. Injecting some kind of compound to keep it stable. But there's no way to access the memories inside without a compatible port."

"You're talking about me, right?" Nick rubbed his chin. "I'm an old synth. If the Institute built me out of similar parts, we might have an in."

"There . . . could be long-term side effects. I don't know where even to begin with listing the risks . . ."

"Don't bother. I don't need to hear them. Plug me in, Doc."

It wasn't until then that I actually started worrying for Nick. But he was so adamant about doing this. "Hey. I appreciate this, Nick."

"You can thank me when we've found your son. All right. Let's do this."

"Whenever you're ready, Mister Valentine. Just sit down."

Nick took a seat on a stool next to one of the pods. "If I start cackling like a grizzled, old mercenary, pull me out, okay?"

"Let's see here . . ." Amari approached him and examined the back of Nick's head. She plugged in the gadget. "I need you to keep talking to me Mister Valentine. Any slight change in your cognitive functions could be dire. Are you . . . feeling any different?"

"There's a lot of flashes . . . static . . . I can't make sense of any of it, Doc."

"That's what I was afraid of." She unplugged the gadget. "The mnemonic impressions are encoded. It appears the Institute has one last fail-safe. There's a lock on the memories in the implant."

"Is Nick gonna be okay?"

"Yes, the connections appear to be stable. Hopefully, it'll be as simple as unplugging the implant once we're done. But that doesn't get around the current problem. The memory encryption is too strong for a single mind, but . . . what if we used two? We load both you and Mister Valentine into the memory loungers. Run your cognitive functions in parallel. He'll act as a host while your consciousness drives through whatever memories we can find."

I didn't like this idea. "Any idea of what I'm gonna see in there?"

"I have no clue, but considering we only have a single piece of the medial temporal lobe, and not the whole brain, I doubt it'll be . . . cohesive."

"Nick and I are gonna share a mind? I'm not gonna see him in any . . . compromising positions, am I?"

Nick was getting offended. "If a smart mouth was all it took to solve our problems, we'd have found your son by now."

"Uh . . . no. You won't have to worry about that. The only memories you'll have access to are the ones in the implant."

"All right. Let's get started."

"Just sit down over there. And . . . keep your fingers crossed."

I was sweating already. Getting into the memory lounger felt too much like getting into that cryo-chamber. I didn't realize how claustrophobic it made me. The pod closed over me, and I was encased like being inside a bubble. Amari plugged the gadget back into Nick's head.

"See you on the other side," said Nick, as he climbed into the other lounger.

I stared at a black and white screen that read "please stand by."

"Initiating brainwave migration between the implant and the host. Mnemonic activity coming from the transplant! It's degenerated, but it's there! We're going to load you into the strongest memories we can find. They might not be . . . stable . . . Just hold on."

As the screen brightened, it was almost like it was putting me into a trance. The rest of the room seemed to fade away somehow, and I was totally engulfed by the screen. Tunnel vision? I didn't understand this technology.

"Can you hear me?" Amari's voice echoed through my ears.

I could feel my head shaking slowly in an up and down motion as to say "yes."

"Ah, good. The simulation appears to be working, although the memories are quite fragmentary. I'll try to step you through the intact memories, and hope we find one that gives us some clue to the Institute's location."

As far as I could see, everything was a dark blue with hues of purple. It was like I was seeing the inside of Kellogg's brain. Nerves were pulsating with red and blue lights, as if I was watching his thoughts as he had them. I felt like I was floating above one of the nerves, attached to it somehow, waiting for another to attach itself like a bridge so that I could follow it, like I myself was a thought or a nerve pulse.

Just then, there it was, appearing in front of me. The bridge I was waiting for.

". . . there. This is the earliest intact memory I could find."

I followed the nerve-like bridge to a faint blur that I assumed to be his memory.

Inside was a boy sitting on his bed playing and his mother sitting in a chair beside him. The radio was on. A man yelled from the door to the boy's right to turn down the 'god damn radio' because he was trying to sleep.

"Remember, you are experiencing these memories as Kellogg. This may prove disorienting at first."

The mother spoke. "Hmph. What a joke."

"What's it mean, mom?" asked the boy.

"Nothing, Connie. People like to talk and hope someone else keeps them safe."

"Teacher at school said the NCR would bring back the good ole' days. Like before the war."

"Don't you listen to that twaddle. I'm going to stop sending you if that's what they're teaching you."

"I'm going out," yelled the man's voice again. ". . . Where the fuck did you put my boots?!"

"Listen to me, Connie." The mother spoke in a hushed, serious tone. She pulled a gun out from between the cushions of her chair. "You take this. You're old enough. You're the man of the family now. It's your job to protect us. Your father's useless. But you won't turn out like him. You're a good boy. And all that on the radio – all useless talk. The only thing that will protect you in this world is that gun in your hands. You need to learn to use it if you're going to survive."

The little boy, Kellogg, aimed the gun at the wall with one eye closed. Then he set it in his lap. "I will, mom. I promise. I won't let you down."

"You've always been my good boy."

Doctor Amari spoke now. "This doesn't seem to be what we're looking for. There appears to be another intact memory close to you in temporal sequence . . . there."

Another nerve bridge opened up to my right, and the memory I was in went dark.

In the new memory, I found myself inside a dim lit room. A kitchen, I think. There was a wood stove, a sink, a table and chairs, and to the far right, a baby's crib. A young woman stood at the sink, and a young man at the stove.

"It's gonna be fine. You'll see," said the man to the woman. I assumed the man was Kellogg and the woman was his wife.

"But we don't know anybody here, and now with the baby . . ."

"Come on, Sarah, you've gotta give it a chance. I finally got steady work with a good outfit. Nothing like that in the NCR these days."

"I'm not saying this is a mistake. I'm just . . ." The woman walked to the table and took a seat in one of the chairs. "Are you sure these guys know what they're doing? They seem kind of . . . green."

"I know. But that's where I come in. Just wait. In a few years, I'll be running my own crew, as soon as I make the connections I need. Then I can give you anything you want. And little Mary, too." He smiled at her. A reassuring smile.

"I never worried about you before. Must be my mama instincts kicking in. Who knew I had those, huh?"

"Come on. You're great with her." He took her hand in his. "And you don't need to worry about me. Most of it's just running security for the Shi. A lot of standing around and looking tough."

"They sure picked the right person for that job." She propped her chin up in her hand, with her elbow resting on the table, looking up at him with adoration.

"Listen. It's going to be great here." He took out his revolver; the one his mother gave him. The same one I took from him to keep for myself. "This is what's gonna keep you and Mary safe. I promise."

"I know, Connie. I'm sure we're gonna be really happy here."

"We are. You'll see."

The baby started crying from her crib. Sarah almost got up to check on Mary, but Kellogg insisted. "It's okay, I got her."

Doctor Amari spoke again and the memory went dark. "Let's keep looking. I'll connect you to the next intact memory."

The next memory took place in a dark hallway, made of concrete from ceiling to floors, and pipes exposed on the walls. Kellogg stood there in a mercenary's getup and a machine gun in hand.

There was a man's voice that wasn't Kellogg's. "How did you think this was gonna end, Kellogg? You thought you could just fuck with us, and we wouldn't fuck with you?" The voice laughed.

Kellogg was making his way coolly down the hall. At the end of the hall, there was a blue door. He stopped in front of it, gun poised.

"Just so you know – they died like dogs. And you weren't there to help them."

Kellogg kicked the door open and started spraying a hail of bullets into the room on the other side. I couldn't see inside; I just saw the violence that occurred, and the rage Kellogg showed in his actions.

"I found another memory to try," said Amari. "I'll connect you."

The next bridge appeared to my right, and I floated up to the next memory. I found myself inside a bar of sorts. The bartender stood behind the bar to the right of me, cleaning glasses. In front of me, two men stood, overlooking Kellogg, who was sitting at a table at the far end alone, drinking.

"Mind if we . . . sit down?" asked the first man.

"Suit yourself," he said.

They took a seat with him.

"So, uh," the first man started, "I hear you take care of people's . . . problems. Is that right?"

"If you pay me."

"Oh, we'll pay you," said the second man.

The first spoke again. "And you'll do this all by yourself?"

"That's right," Kellogg answered, then downed the rest of his drink and set it on the table.

"We pay you when the job's done, then. Is that okay?"

"If that's the way you wanna do it. So who do you want dead?"

"Well, it's like this. There's a family that lives down the creek a ways . . ."

The memory went dark before the man could finish.

"We seem to be getting closer," said Amari. "Try this next one."

In the next memory, there stood Kellogg in front of a woman, who sat at a metal table in a swivel chair. She looked like she had been waiting for him inside a warehouse of sorts. All around her stood Institute synths. The synths were even earlier models than Nick. They didn't even have white, pasty, synthetic skin. All their parts were showing, like metal skeletons and wiring. She herself wore a white lab coat.

"Mister Kellogg," she said. "I'm glad you decided to meet with me."

"So, you're with the Institute. I wanted to see for myself if you really existed."

"We do, as you can see."

"What do you want?"

"It's come to my attention that you've been rather disruptive of our operations lately. This must stop."

"I do what people pay me to do. If that's a problem for you, I can see only one way out."

"And what's that, Mister Kellogg?"

"If I'm working for you, there's no more problem. From what I hear, you can afford me."

She raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you fully understand the situation you're in."

"I think I do."

"Very well." She turned toward a synth. "B7-48. Initiate . . ."

Kellogg lunged for the closest synth on the right, and whirled him around to face the others. He held the Institute rifle in the synth's left hand out with his own, never losing his grip from the synth's body with his right arm, and fired his revolver with his right hand at the other two. Then he let go of and kicked the remaining synth down, and shot it between the eyes. That left the Institute agent alone and totally exposed to his mercy . . .

"Impressive," she said, regaining her composure. "We may have something to talk about after all."

"Getting warmer," said Amari. "One of these has got to tell us something. We're running out of brain here. Uh . . . ah!" She opened up the next bridge. "There's one that looks mostly intact. Connecting it now."

There was a room filled with metal railings, pods, control panels . . . Kellogg stood there with two Institute lackeys, both in hazard suits. A robotic female voice came on over the intercom, and gave me a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Manual override initiated. Cryogenic stasis suspended." One Institute agent was on a terminal on the far side of the room, closest to the railing, who apparently had to override the cryostasis himself.

"Vault computers are still working, and that's good," he said. "Checking through the logs. Hopefully it's all – "

"Just . . . find it." Kellogg sounded like he was in a hurry and in no mood to chat with the egghead.

"Pod C6. Down the hall near the end."

Kellogg and the other Institute agent walked up to Nate's pod . . .

"This is the one. Here . . ." she said.

"Open it," he commanded.

Nate coughed, and Shaun cried. Just like before. In my pod, I could see myself, disoriented and confused, trying to move my muscles correctly.

"Is it over? Are we safe?"

"Almost. Everything's gonna be fine."

"Come here. Come here, baby . . ."

"No, wait. No, I've got him!"

"Let the boy go. I'm only gonna tell you once!"

"I'm not giving you Shaun!"

 _Bang!_

"Goddammit! Get the kid outta here, and let's go . . . at least we still have the backup."

"Cryogenic sequence reinitialized."

All of it happened so fast . . .

"What's the holdup?" Kellogg asked the male Institute lackey.

"I'm almost finished, Kellogg. I just need to confirm . . . alright, we're good."

The memory went dark.

"I'm, uh . . . sorry you had to go through that again," said Doctor Amari. "I found another intact memory. Whenever you're ready."

I was beyond ready to move on. I followed the next nerve bridge.

In the next memory, I found myself in a familiar place. Kellogg's house in Diamond City. There sat a little boy with dark hair, like Nate's, looking through comic books. Kellogg reclined in a metal chair, where he was shining his trusty revolver.

"Is that . . . your son?" asked Amari. "This appears to be a very recent memory, so . . . good news, I think."

Diamond City Radio was playing in the background. The host, a timid little guy to say the least, was talking about how mad the mayor was about Piper's new newspaper, accusing him of being a synth. It had to have been recent. Did he know I was coming?

A man with dark skin, as dark as Preston's, with sunglasses and a black coat and boots entered the room. "Kellogg."

The boy looked up from his comics.

"It's okay," said Kellogg. Then to the man, "One of these days, you're going to get your head blown off, just barging in here like that."

The man almost spoke with the same proper grammar and monotone as a robot, but his voice was human enough. Everything else about him was, too. A synth? "Minimizing my exposure to civilians is a priority . . ."

"Forget I said anything. So what's the big crisis this time?" He holstered his revolver and stood from his seat.

"New orders for you. One of our scientists has left the Institute."

"Left as in . . . ?

"He's gone rogue. Name's Doctor Brian Virgil. We know he's hiding somewhere in the Glowing Sea. Here's his file." He pulled a pale yellow folder from his pocket and handed it to Kellogg.

Kellogg took it and started flipping through it's contents. "Wow. Some heads are going to roll for this. Capture and return, or just elimination?"

"Elimination. He was working on a highly classified program."

"No kidding." He looked back at the folder. "One of the top Bioscience boys? Damn. So . . . I guess you're taking the kid back with you."

"Affirmative. Your only mission is to locate and eliminate Virgil."

"You're taking me home to my father?" asked the little boy.

"Yes. Stand next to me and hold still."

"Okay." The little boy stood up and went to the man's side.

"X6-88, ready to relay with Shaun."

"Bye, Mister Kellogg! I hope I see you again soon!"

Just then, a flash of blue light came down through the ceiling and they were gone in a flash, as if they had been vaporized.

"Bye," Kellogg muttered, a hint of loneliness in his voice.

The memory went dark once again.

"Teleportation," Amari stated. "Now it all makes sense. Nobody's found the entrance to the Institute because there _is_ no entrance. Let me pull you out of there. As soon as you're ready . . ."

The TV came on across the room with a "please stand by" sign on it, like the one I saw before being sucked into Kellogg's memories. I gazed into the TV, and strangely enough, I was taken back to reality.

I looked around the room in the Memory Den, disoriented and confused at first, but relieved, too.

"Slow movements, okay?" Amari stood in front of me with her hands out in case I started to fall over. I had climbed out of the memory lounger, eager to get out of the closed space. "I don't know what kind of side effects the procedure might have had. No one's ever done this before. How . . . do you feel?"

I held my head for a moment. "Am I okay? Are you seeing anything . . . bad?"

"Don't be alarmed, but I honestly don't know what to look for. As I said before, this is uncharted territory. But your neural and physiological readings have returned to normal. From a medical standpoint, you're fine. Are you . . . ready to talk about what happened in there?"

"You were along for the ride, weren't you? You saw what I saw."

"Yes, but it's important we review everything together. In case either of us missed anything."

"I saw Kellogg's life . . . The man who ruined my family . . . The man I killed . . ."

"That's right. He was a human being just like the rest of us, and he had reasons for being what he was, however cruel. How does that . . . make you feel?"

"I . . . I'm not sure, Doctor . . ."

"I don't know if there's any right way to feel, either . . . We're getting off track. The important thing is that we discovered the Institute's greatest secret. Teleportation. The only question is, what do we do now?"

It clicked. "That scientist Kellogg was supposed to track down. Virgil. We need to find him."

"You're right! A rogue Institute scientist could answer all kinds of questions. Where did the memory say he was? The Glowing Sea? That doesn't make sense. No one goes there. Not even if they were desperate."

"Why? What makes the Glowing Sea so dangerous?"

"The name says it all. Radiation. So much that nothing could possibly live. Nothing . . . pleasant . . . Navigating radioactive hazards is nothing new, but the Glowing Sea can kill a man in seconds. That's why it doesn't make sense. Virgil fleeing into that Hell. The exposure alone . . ."

"That's why he's there. To make the Institute think twice about following him."

"That must be it! He's using the radiation in the Glowing Sea like a shield . . . or a cloak. A way to throw them off and be at an advantage. If Virgil found a way to survive there, you'll have to do the same, if you're going to follow him."

"I'll find a way to get through the rads. Don't worry."

"Good luck. And . . . be safe. By the way, I unplugged Mister Valentine first. Removed the implant while you were waking up. He's waiting for you upstairs."

"Thanks." I made my way upstairs, still a little woozy from being in the lounger. There sat Nick, by the entrance on a love seat all by his lonesome.

"Hey, Valentine . . ."

To my horror, it wasn't Nick's voice that answered. "Hope you got what you were looking for inside my head. Heh. I was right. Should've killed you when you were on ice."

I stood there, my mouth agape and my heart thumping.

"Just gonna stare?" he asked, amused. "Nothing to say?"

I stuttered. "K-kellogg? Is that . . . you?"

"What?" asked Nick. It was his voice. "What are you talking about?"

"You sounded like Kellogg just then."

"Did I? Hm. Amari said there might be some mnemonic impressions left over . . . Anyway, I feel fine. Let's get going."

Did I really feel safe traveling with Nick at this point? When I didn't answer him right away he said, "waiting on you" and I blinked. "Uh, you know what? I'm gonna head out on my own from here, Nick."

"Well, good luck out there. You know where to find me."

I kept my distance from him as he walked out the front door. I waited until I knew he had left Goodneighbor to journey out again.

 _What the hell was that?_


	13. Ch 13: Bad Neighbors in Goodneighbor

**Chapter 13**

 **Bad Neighbors in Goodneighbor**

* * *

After taking inventory in my bag, I knew I didn't have enough rad-x and radaway to walk through the Glowing Sea this exposed. I didn't have what I needed to fix my suit of power armor back home. And, to make things worse, I didn't have the caps I needed to buy any of those things.

I thought about what that guy said that we came across on the railroad tracks. He mentioned someone named Bobbi No-Nose or something like that, and this person was supposedly in Goodneighbor.

I decided to check out the town, first and foremost. I was in foreign territory.

Then, I heard a sandpapery voice, slightly familiar, coming from the old State House.

"Hey everyone! Gather round, don't be bashful. Take your time . . ."

I looked up to find Hancock standing on the State House's balcony, addressing the town.

"Now, I know you all are doing your own thing. But I don't want anyone here to forget what matters . . . Hey, Daisy! Glad you could make it. How's my favorite girl doing?" He motioned to one of the townspeople, a ghoul woman with her hair pinned up. She wore a tan suit. "Didn't I see you on a date with Marowski the other day?"

"Ha! He wishes!"

A light laughter spread through the townspeople.

"Alright, alright. We're getting off track. What was I saying? Oh, that's right! What matters. We freaks gotta stick together! And the best way to stick together is to keep an eye out for what drives us apart, ya feel me?"

"Yeah, you tell it like it is, Hancock!" said a member of the neighborhood watch.

"Now, what out there in our big, friendly Commonwealth would wanna drive us apart? What kind of twisted, un-neighborly boogeyman would wanna hurt our peaceful community?"

"The Institute and their synths!" yelled a drifter in the crowd.

"That's right! Who said that? Come on up to my office later. You've earned yourself some jet. The Institute! They're the real enemy! Not the raiders, not the super mutants, not even those tools over in Diamond City."

"I don't know, Hancock," yelled the neighborhood watch again. "I'd sure like to give McDonough a kick in the ass!"

"Hey, we all know I got my own personal beef with that lard-head, but stay focused. Now, I want everyone to keep the Institute in mind. When someone starts acting funny. When people are doing things they don't normally do. When family starts pushing you away for no reason. We all know who's behind that kind of shit. And the only way to stop it is to stick together. They can't control us if we're not afraid! Now, who's scared of the Institute?"

"Not us!" yelled the crowd.

"And which town in the Commonwealth should the Institute not fuck with?"

"Goodneighbor!"

"And who's in charge of Goodneighbor?"

"Hancock! Of the People, for the People!"

Hancock turned to go back inside the State House. No one clapped or cheered afterward. It was almost a mixture of fear and respect among the crowd. I was insanely curious about this man. This . . . ghoul. I walked inside the State House to talk to him myself.

As I entered the State House, a guard mumbled behind my back, "You're lucky the mayor likes outsiders."

Why was I starting to get the feeling that Hancock was nicer than his people? In Diamond City, the people were nicer than their mayor . . .

Inside the room at the top of the stairs, I could hear Hancock and someone else having a conversation. That woman that stopped to comment to me after the deal with Finn, I thought.

"I'm thinking the super mutants are getting too friendly. Maybe we should round up some crew and thin them out?"

"Too aggressive. They will have a home ground advantage, plus our fighters are disorganized. When they aren't defending their homes, discipline and morale plummet."

"So, what? We just turtle up? That's not my style . . ."

"The only thing that's 'not your style' is losing, Hancock. Trust me. We keep the game a defensive. A simple castle strategy will draw the mutants to us."

"And we can knock them off slowly . . . I like it . . ."

"And another thing . . . I could have handled Finn, you know."

"Yeah, but it's better if people know I can still get my hands dirty. Besides, it wasn't personal. No need to torture the guy."

"You always keep me from having fun."

I knocked on the door, a light tap.

Fahrenheit's face turned instantly sour, but Mayor Hancock welcomed me with open arms. "Hey, our newcomer. You need somethin'?"

"I hope this isn't coming off as too abrasive. I just wanted to know your story. Get to know you. Just who is Mayor Hancock?"

"Ah, my favorite subject. I came into this town about . . . a decade ago? Had a smooth set of skin back then. While I was busy making myself a pillar of this community, I would go on these . . . like . . . wild tears . . . I was young . . . Any chems I could find, the more exotic, the better. Finally found this experimental radiation drug. Only one of its kind left, and only one hit. Oh, man, the high was so worth it. Yeah, I'm livin' with the side effects, but hey, what's not to love about immortality?"

I smirked. "All that chem use definitely prepared you for a career in politics."

"People respect me because I don't put myself above them, all right? I sling and shoot up just like the next guy. Now, before you bring me down, is there anything you need?"

"What can you tell me about your town, Goodneighbor?"

"It's all about the people, understand? They're freaks, misfits, and troublemakers. And that's why I love 'em. Everyone here lives their own life, their own way. No judgments."

"Did I hear you talking about the Institute during your address?"

"You like my little speech? I do it every once in a while, in case they're listening in. I want those synth-makers to know that Goodneighbor is off limits. No one gets 'replaced' in my town."

"Why do you think the Institute replaces people?"

"Hell if I know. Mess with people's heads? Control us from the shadows? Or maybe they do it just because they can. No one knows where the Institute is, what kind of people they are, or why they've decided to engineer their own slaves, but there it is. Just to be clear, everyone's welcome in Goodneighbor. I don't care if you're a synth, ghoul, super mutant – so long as you play nice. And lemme tell ya, synths still under the Institute's control don't play nice. But hey, weren't we talkin' about your needs? What did ya come here for?"

"Information, for one. And thank you, by the way. So, last question. Do you know of any work that needs to be done? I'm kind of low on caps . . ."

"Work, huh? Hmm . . . I'll tell ya what. I got a reconnaissance needs. There's a lot of weird talk coming in about a place called the Pickman Gallery. It's raider territory up there, but they've been quiet. Like, uncomfortable post-coitus quiet? Snoop it out, and gimme the word."

"Not a lot to go on. What else can you tell me about Pickman Gallery?"

"Nothing. That's why I'm paying you to go out there."

"Okay. Scout out Pickman Gallery. On it."

"Cool. Be thorough, okay? I'm not payin' you for a look-see. Find out what's really going on there."

* * *

The job sounded safer than getting a job that I knew nothing about via second person invitation, whose boss is somebody with a name like "Bobbi No-Nose."

The mayor of Goodneighbor was odd at best, but I liked him. There was something about him that made me want to talk to him. Talk about anything.

It wasn't until after I was already outside of Goodneighbor's walls that I realized I had been up for over twenty-four hours and hadn't eaten anything. I made a point to make this little job as quick as I could.

With my new revolver in hand, I made my way to the Pickman Gallery marked on my map. It wasn't too hard to get to, as long as I avoided the super mutants and the occasional land mine.

Inside Pickman Gallery was another story. It housed at least six raiders, which I killed, and used a few stimpaks while I was at it. I was almost out now. Pickman Gallery consisted of many dead bodies, long before I got there. Long before the raiders got there, even. I checked each body, and on each one, I found Pickman's calling card. They all said, "Pickman was here, find me if you dare," with a bloodied heart drawn on the paper.

On one particular body in the first room, I found a holotape; it was a message for some guy named Jack. I played it in my pip-boy.

 _"Jack, it's me. I found out what happened to the scouts that went up near the old art gallery. They're dead, Seth. I'm lookin' at a goddamn painting of Kyle's body! Oh, God. What the hell did they do to him?"_

There was a humming in the background of the tape. Someone was happily humming to themselves, and it wasn't the horrified man making this tape.

 _"Who the hell is there?!"_ the man yelled.

 _"Admiring my collection?"_ asked the man who was humming. I gathered that it was Pickman. _"I'm afraid it's not complete yet. Soon, though."_

 _"Stay away from me, you psycho!"_

 _"Yes. Just like that. Hold that expression on your face . . ."_

The tape ended.

I looked at all the paintings on the walls. They were painted with blood. And all the dead bodies were another form of art. Some bodies were chained to beds, even. One was used as an overhead lamp. It was horrifying. I left the gallery with my stomach in a wad. I took the holotape and all the calling cards to Hancock as soon as I could make it there.

When I entered the old State House, he wasted no time to ask me how it was going.

"How's my little scout doing? Did you find out what's happening at Pickman Gallery?"

"Yes. Here." I shoved all the evidence to him. "Let's just say Pickman's art isn't gonna have much resale value once all those bodies start decaying . . ."

He just chuckled and put the things I gave him on his desk. "Well, they say all artistic inspiration is ephemeral, am I right? Wish I could say that was the most twisted thing I ever heard of, but it ranks up there . . . Top three . . . I'll put the word out. Tell people to steer clear of that area. Hiring you was definitely one of my better moments. Here. Spend the money in good health."

He handed me a sack of caps. I thanked him and made way for the exit.

I went to the discount store, and the ghoul lady that I saw at the State House in the crowd, Daisy, was standing behind the counter. "Hi."

"Oh. A new face walks into my store. And you're not even screaming yet. Very polite. You let me know if anything catches your fancy."

"People scream at you?"

"That's right. Some newcomers have never seen a ghoul before. Can't handle a friendly face, I say. So you need some supplies?"

"I'll take a look, sure."

She showed me her stock. She had a little bit of everything. A few light weapons, a bit of ammo, some chest pieces and arm guards, rough clothing, beverages, food, alcohol, and medical supplies. I eyed the rad-x and radaway. She was selling them for 88 and 176 caps a pop. The stimpaks were just as expensive. 106 for each; and she had ten. I bought one of each, the rad-x, radaway, and stimpaks.

"I'll be back when I get some more money," I said sheepishly.

I checked out the store next door just to feed my curiosity. What did I want to save for?

Inside, to my surprise, an assaultron was standing behind the counter. It had a female voice, like the last assaultron I met. Although, the last one was torn to pieces by Kellogg.

"Well, hello. Everything here is guaranteed to injure, maim, or kill at your discretion. Except me. I only kill when I want to."

"Who . . . or what . . . are you?"

"I'm a woman, baby. Can't you tell?"

"Oh. Of course you are. It's just . . . all those metal plates. You're a robot, right? A very . . . womanly robot?"

"Designation: assaultron. Designed to provide a variety of security-related tasks to the modern man. Runtime conclusion: why work for the man, when you can work for yourself? New designation: K-L-E-O. 'Kleo.' Fully independent small business owner. Robot enough for you, smooth talker? Now, what are you buying?"

I saw some of what she was offering in her arsenal. Everything from baseball bats to braced metal arms. From frag mines to fusion cores. From machetes to missiles. There was no way I could afford any of it.

"I'm gonna pass this time . . ."

"Don't expect any tears, baby."

I left her store empty-handed, and I still didn't have enough caps to get what I needed for my journey through the Glowing Sea. It was time I visited that Bobbi No-Nose.

I went down the alleyway behind the shops. There was a door there. The person on the other side must have heard me coming, because they opened the little sliding window before I could even knock. It was a female ghoul – she literally had no nose, but I still wasn't sure if she was the right person. All ghouls were missing a nose. She had brown hair – I had guessed her hair was a wig, because ghouls had no hair on their bodies – and wore what looked like a white collared shirt and a black vest.

"Hey, you. Looking for work?" she asked roguishly.

Bobbi No-Nose alright. "Yeah. When can I start?"

"Well, aren't you an eager beaver?" She spoke slowly and quietly, like she was trying to be mysterious. Or maybe she wasn't trying at all. "If you don't mind a little manual labor and don't ask too many questions, you're in. I'll give you fifty caps to start. Interested?"

I wrinkled up my nose at the fifty cap offer. "You can do better than that . . ."

"Fine, take a hundred up front."

"I'm in," I smiled.

"That's what I like to hear. Let's go inside. I'll give you the lowdown." She opened the door for me, revealing another door on the other side. Double doors, to be exact, were waiting for us. She opened them for me and motioned me inside.

Inside revealed a pretty beat up building. The whole second floor above our heads was fallen in. Wood and splinters littered the floor. There was a downstairs area that Bobbi disappeared to as I was taking what little scenery the room had to offer.

When I caught up to her, she had taken a seat in a red upholstered chair and set her hands in her lap. "Ready to get to work?"

"Just tell me what I need to do."

"It's a simple job, really. You are going to be doing some digging."

I remember her saying that I could stay as long as I didn't ask too many questions. "I'll do whatever you need."

"Good to know. The other two are down there diggin' already. Go give them a hand, will ya?"

I nodded and opened the door to my left. It led down a tunnel that had been dug out. It led underneath the city. At the end of the narrow tunnel was a larger room. Two men were standing inside.

"Hey I think we can finally get through," said one.

"Wanna see what's on the other side?" asked the other.

"Hell yeah."

"You think Bobbi'll pay us this week?"

"I dunno, man."

"It's starting to feel like we're doing charity . . . did you just hear somethin'?"

"It's crawling with mirelurks! Bail!"

"Bobbi can take this new job and shove it!"

"Good luck down there, new girl," one said to me before passing me.

They ran out of the tunnel, nearly knocking me over in the process. I looked back in the direction they ran from and in walked two huge mirelurks. They looked particularly angry.

I took out my new revolver and got ready for the action. As I fired the revolver, it fired with such a force, it nearly buckled my arm. I had to concentrate to hold the gun in place.

I took out the three mirelurks pretty easily once I got the hang of the kickback. I had to get used to reloading, however. It only held six bullets in the revolver at once, and I barely had any ammo for this gun. I put on one of the mining helmets, holstered the revolver, and got ready to start digging

Then, in barged Bobbi. "What is going on in my tunnel?"

"Looks like we're having crab for dinner tonight," I jested.

"You'd eat mirelurk? Ugh, no. Disgusting. Tough, but somehow slimy at the same time." She looked around. I was the only one in the tunnel. "Well, you stuck around at least. So, I guess you're promoted. You get to be my new gun. I think we just need one more guy. An old friend. He'll want a fair cut, but we saw where bein' cheap got me."

"Just tell me where to go and who to talk to." I was a little disappointed that she was already sending me on an errand.

"I knew I liked you. First, I think it's best if you actually see what we're after. I have some things to check on in Diamond City. Head over to the Noodle Shop there and I'll meet you there when I finish up my business."

I fought the urge to snoop through Bobbi's things when she left, but I had to leave shortly after her anyway. I had to walk all the way back to Diamond City. I was exhausted. I at least got something to eat before I left. Potato crisps from my bag and a purified water. I should have told her I hadn't had any sleep, but it wasn't fitting for me to make excuses on the first day of a new job.

It was twilight. Once I got to Diamond City, it was pitch black. I sat down at the Noodle Shop. I had half a mind to go see Nick, but I was afraid he'd go all Kellogg on me again. Next to me sat someone in a gas mask, a jumpsuit, and a pair of gloves and combat boots.

"There you are," she said. "I was wondering if you were gonna show up. Yes, it's me. I have to hide my face in these parts. People like me aren't allowed around here. Now let's get down to business. That big wall of glass looming over Diamond City is the mayor's office. Most people don't know it, but there's a strongroom buried beneath. Mayor's just sittin' on top of it. And that's our target. The guy has it coming if you ask me. With how he treats my kind, maybe he deserves worse."

"So-o-o, this is all for a good cause." It was almost a question.

"Don't get me wrong, the caps are my primary motivation. If I get to take them from a bigot, that's just icing. So what do ya say we make this party a little bigger? I managed to track down my tech guy. His name's Mel and he is right here in Diamond City. The guy can make a gadget to solve any problem. Thing is, he's a bit locked up right now. You have to get him outta there. I can't just stroll into Diamond City Security with this face. Covered or not."

"Tell me about the security office."

"It's built into some old locker rooms, and it smells the part. This isn't a maximum security prison, and it isn't heavily guarded. No problem for someone like you, right? Pick a lock, find the key, bribe a guard. The usual stuff. Just get him outta there."

I traveled over to the guards' office. Inside, it did still smell kind of funny, like the locker rooms from the old days. I walked up to the bars of the single-section jail cell and talked to the guy with the red hair.

"I hear you're some kind of tech expert?"

"You heard right. Well, maybe 'tech' is too general. I have a thing for robots. No, not _that_ kind of thing. But I know my way around most machines. Why? You need my help?"

 _Why else would I be here?_ "Do you come here often?" I asked sarcastically.

"Yeah, I just come here to unwind. Nothing more relaxing than a sparsely furnished jail cell." Then he sighed. "So I'm guessing you're here because you need something from me. Oh, totally unrelated, but I hear there's an old glitched out protectron back there. Guards asked me to take a look, but it was a real head-scratcher. Couldn't do a thing."

I paused and thought for a moment about how I was going to go about getting Mel out of there. A guard walked past me and asked if I needed something.

I simply asked him what Mel did to get thrown in there, and the guard replied, "Him? He was caught trying to reprogram the robot bartender at the Taphouse to give him free drinks. Just between you and me, I would totally do that if I knew how."

"I was hoping you'd let Mel out of lockup."

"I didn't know Mel had friends. Alright, he's pretty much done his time. Let me open up the door."

 _Well, that was easy._

The guard unlocked the jail cell door. "Alright, you're free to go, buddy."

We walked out without so much as a slap on the wrist. Mel was quiet until we got a safe distance away from the guards outside.

"Thanks for getting me out, I guess. So, you're Bobbi's new toy?"

I took on another sarcastic tone. "Yeah, they're this year's hottest gift. Get one before they're gone."

"I don't really do the whole gift thing. That would require having friends. Or family. God, that woman doesn't have a patient bone in her body. I wasn't serving a life sentence here. What, she couldn't wait, like, a day?"

"Frankly, I wish she had. I'm exhausted."

"What's the job?"

"How'd you like to help break into the Diamond City strongroom?"

"Well, damn. That's a big score. Could be enough caps there to keep me goin' for a long time. Bobbi may be shady, but she always pays up in the end. Guess I'll get my stuff together and head over to her place."

"I'll see you there tomorrow. I really need to get some rest."

"Alright. I'll let Bobbi know."

I showed up at the Dugout Inn ready to collapse on one of their couches in the main room. Yesif gave me room 2 again, and I passed out on the bed without even removing my gear.

* * *

At the ass-crack of dawn, I stopped by Valentine's office. Valentine wasn't there, so I asked Ellie where he was. She said he was on a case. When I asked her if he had been acting funny, she looked at me curiously.

"He's been his same old self, if not more stubborn than ever. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing. Forget I asked. I just wanted to make sure he was doing okay."

"Okay, well I'll let him know you stopped by. Take care."

"Thanks. You too."

Maybe the side effects of the experience in the Memory Den was wearing off after all. No more mnemonic impressions, or whatever Dr. Amari called them.

I headed for Goodneighbor and fought my way through the hoards of super mutants and raiders again until I made it back. I arrived in one piece, so I had that going for me. My last stop was Bobbi No-Nose's office.

She was already inside the tunnel with Mel. When I approached, I noticed that Mel had a peculiar eyebot with him – a perfectly rounded, floating robot with a large speaker on the front and antennae covering it's back. It was like a floating radio, and sometimes served as one in places like Diamond City. This particular eyebot had its speaker replaced with this bulbous, blue orb of energy, surrounded in a few thin metal plates. It looked like a floating electrical bomb just waiting to go off.

"Alright, we're all here," Bobbi said with a cigarette between her lips, taking notice of me. "Mel, you wanna introduce your little friend?"

"Yep. Meet Sonya. This little bot is gonna help us move through the earth like a molerat on jet."

"I'm excited to see what she could do," I replied. In truth, I didn't know anything about robots, or the mechanics of one.

"Heh, I can't wait to show you. She's one of a kind. I modified her radio systems to emit sonic pulses at frequencies that can loosen any sediment around."

Bobbi flicked the ashes from her cigarette. "Mel says we'll be able to get to the strongroom ten times faster than just digging. And it's a helluva lot safer than just loading this place up with dynamite."

"All right, guys. Get ready. I'm not completely sure how the place will respond. So, uh, brace yourselves. Sonya, do your thing," he said excitedly.

The eyebot hovered down some stairs lower into the tunnel. There was a wall of sediment there that looked like it would take at least three hours to dig out by hand with a shovel. With one sonic blast and a blue wave of light, the sediment shook loose all on its own and gave way to a deeper section of the tunnel. I had to say, I was impressed.

"I'm flattered," said Bobbi.

I could hear Mel whispering to Bobbi while I was inspecting the tunnel. "So, what's the deal with the new girl?"

"Oh, I got lucky with this one," she whispered back. "Came right to my door and took the job. She takes orders and she's useful in a fight. What more could I want?"

"She seems to have a good head on her shoulders. Maybe we don't burn bridges this time, yeah?"

The mirelurk eggs on the ground interested me. They were huge. I wondered if they tasted like eggs from before they war. I grabbed one or two and carefully put them in my bag. I definitely wanted to keep some and cook them when I got back to Sanctuary. While I picked up a few things, Bobbi and Mel caught up to me with Sonya.

"Let's go," I said, taking lead through the tunnels. This is what I was hired for, after all. I let my gun do the leading, pointing the way through the tunnels. I was ready to fire at any oncoming mirelurks that may have been disturbed by the sonic blast.

First section, one mirelurk. Took it out with Kellogg's revolver and switched guns.

Second section, two mirelurks and some babies. Took them out with a shotgun. Picked up a power core as loot.

Third section, three mirelurks.

Fourth section, a mostly clear tunnel.

"Looks like an old subway tunnel," said Mel.

"Then we're on the right track."

He chuckled. "I see what you did there."

"What? No." She wasn't amused. "Just keep heading southwest. We need to find a place to blast outta these tunnels."

At the end of the tunnel was at least ten ghouls. I took most of them out with a Molotov cocktail, almost burning myself in the process. I had no experience with them. The rest was taken out easily with my Institute rifle and Bobbi's and Mel's guns. There was plenty of loot to be had, including whiskey and a few caps.

I had watched Nick hack plenty of terminals while we traveled together, so I gave it a shot on the terminal at the end of the room. To my surprise, it worked. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything of value behind the door. I grabbed a roll of duct tape for Sturges and stuffed it in my bag.

"How come it's been so long since we worked together, Bobbi?"

"I've been trying to keep a low profile on this one, Mel. And I didn't wanna get you wrapped up in it unless I had to."

"We've been through worse jobs than this . . ."

"We're not done yet, are we?"

"Encouraging."

Fifth section, more ghouls and another tunnel.

"No flesh off my face, but you two might wanna watch out for the radiation around here," said Bobbi. It was true; she was a ghoul so it wouldn't affect her. If anything, it may even heal her scrapes and bruises.

Rad-x time. I offered one of the little yellow pills to Mel, and he gladly took one.

Sonya was making quick work of the heavily sediment-like areas, and made way for plenty of passages and tunnels to explore. I just hoped Bobbi knew what she was doing. The last thing I wanted was to get stuck underground. Again.

It was just a winding maze full of different enemies. Every room was different. We'd come across concrete hallways, pipe rooms, and offices, each one underground.

"We're getting really close," said Bobbi. "There's a brewery near our strongroom; this has to be the basement to that brewery."

"Brewery, you say?"

"Mel, no."

I opened a security room door via a terminal that wasn't locked. Inside were more ghouls, but I wasn't expecting this horror – a glowing ghoul. It was covered in pustules and bumps that glowed their own sickening shade of green. Every hit I received from him was like raw radiation boxing me in the face. It took all three of us to kill it. Once it was finally down, Mel and I needed a radaway. I had never been so ill-feeling in my life.

Bobbi fell behind to loot some caps from a toolbox and Mel and I pressed on a little ways. "If Bobbie's directions are correct," he said, "and I have my doubts, the strongroom should be right through here." He pointed to another sediment-covered wall.

"Doubts?"

"It's just that it doesn't seem like we're under Diamond City, does it? I don't think Bobbi's telling us everything about this job."

"It's up to you," I shrugged. He was the one with the wall-blasting robot.

"I say we keep moving." He looked to the eyebot. "Ready, Sonya?"

The robot blasted what I hoped was the last wall.

We stepped into an old two-story concrete warehouse. There were barrels laying everywhere, thankfully not irradiated, and water covering the ground from the ankle down.

"Great, now my socks are wet," Bobbi complained. "Well guys, we're right under the Diamond City strongroom."

"You're sure this is the right place?" Mel asked. "I've been mapping it out, and I think Diamond City should be a little further north of here."

"I don't have a doubt in my mind. How about a little trust for the boss?"

Mel looked at me.

"Well, we could find out the answer," I replied.

"That's right," she said. "Let's just get up there. If I'm wrong, oh well. We'll find another way. We still need a way to get up there, though. Mel, you think your robot will work here?"

"Look at this place. The foundation is already crumbling. One blast from Sonya, and I bet the floor above would come right down."

"Well, then make it so."

"We won't want to be in the room for this. Collapsing foundation and all."

"Good thinking."

"All right, everybody clear out. Sonya, prepare yourself for a blast at maximum power."

We went through the previous tunnel and waited for Sonya's blast. After we heard the foundation crumble on the other side, we reentered the room.

"That didn't sound good," Mel muttered. "I hope Sonya's okay."

"Now let's get up in that strongroom," said Bobbi.

Inside, the foundation and the floor above had more than crumbled; it completely caved in. We had to climb up the old pipework for us to even get inside.

"No. No, no, Sonya!" Mel found his robot under the cement ceiling that had crumbled down on top of her.

"Pull yourself together, Mel. We don't need that thing anymore anyway." Bobbi was as unsentimental and inconsiderate as the came. I wouldn't want something like that happening to Codsworth.

"But . . ."

"You can make another robot with the haul we get from the strongroom. Keep your head in the game."

We finally made it inside the strongroom. So far, I didn't see any caps or ammo or big guns worth taking. It was lit up with one security light on the side of the room. We walked carefully around the large crack in the floor and went through a doorway to the right. With my fingers crossed, I examined the room. Instead of finding loot, we found Fahrenheit.


	14. Ch 14: Teacher-For-Hire

**Chapter 14**

 **Teacher-For-Hire**

* * *

"Bobbi, what are you doing here?" Fahrenheit sounded more disappointed than she did angry or surprised. She stood on a metal grating above our heads in the strongroom with two big guys on either side of her, with big guns to match.

"Shit." Bobbi drew her gun on Fahrenheit.

"You seriously didn't think Hancock would catch wind of your scheme? He took you in, Bobbi. And you're stealing from him?"

"Don't listen to her," Bobbi told me and Mel.

"What does this have to do with Hancock?" I asked in confusion.

"Yeah, about that. As Mel guessed, this isn't the Diamond City strongroom."

"I see the rest of you are in the dark about this," said a speculating Fahrenheit. "Nice, No-Nose. You all just broke into Hancock's store room. You know. Hancock? The mayor of Goodneighbor?"

"Dammit, Bobbi!" Mel was sweating bullets.

 _Mayor Hancock?_ The _Mayor Hancock?_

Now _I_ was sweating. Just upon meeting Hancock, I knew that no one crosses him and gets away with it. What I didn't know was what he was going to do to us once he found out. Not only that, but I felt strangely guilty for being prepared and willing to steal from him, regardless of Bobbi's lie.

"Listen, guys," Bobbi said in her defense, "I know this isn't what you expected. But there are still a ton of caps on the line here. Help me take her out, and all of it is ours."

"This is _Hancock_ we're ripping off here." Mel looked like he was ready to tear his beard out. "The guy tends to hold grudges."

"Counter offer," Fahrenheit spoke up. "Just go back into your tunnel and we can forget this ever happened. What do you say?"

My mind was reeling. _Hancock? Jesus Christ._ I didn't like being played for a fool. I demanded an explanation from her. "What is this about, Bobbi? Why did you lie to us?" I was seething.

"I knew no one in their right mind would help me rip off Hancock. Everyone is so damn afraid of him or so damn in love with him. He thinks he is invincible. I wanted to show him he wasn't."

I was even angrier now. Hancock treated me with respect as soon as I walked through those gates. Hell, he even saved me from being extorted out my ass by one of his better fighters. And if he really took Bobbi in like Fahrenheit said, that made Bobbi an even shittier person.

"You lied to us, Bobbi. And you have to pay." I slowly reached for my gun.

"You can't do this to me. This isn't how this is supposed to go. Know what? Fine! More for me!"

She pulled her gun on me and aimed right for my face. I was terrified and ready to kick her ass all at the same time, but I never even got to raise my gun at her. Fahrenheit and her boys, even Mel, had drawn their guns and open-fired on her. The bullets whizzed past me and entered all angles of her body. She was down in seconds before my eyes.

 _I guess I owe Fahrenheit one, now._

The room grew quiet. Mel approached me first. "I gotta say, I'm not really cool with how this all went down."

"I'm sorry it had to be this way." It was a half lie. I could care less if Bobbi was alive or dead. I wasn't like my old self.

"Me too, me too. Well . . . I'm outta here." He looked up at Fahrenheit. "Sorry for almost stealing from your boss, Miss Fahrenheit, Ma'am." Mel made his way out of the store room by ways of the front door.

I thanked God there was a front door.

I made my way up the metal stairs to talk to Fahrenheit myself. I had hoped there was no bad blood between us.

"You made the right move," she said.

I made sure Mel had left the store room before answering. "Bobbi lied to us. I'm glad it shook out this way."

"I was itching for a fight, but I guess this works, too. Here, take this. A token for doing the right thing." She reached down and handed me the large mini gun next to her. "Ashmaker. She's my baby. Take care of her."

"Wow, I . . . don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. Just take it. Hancock will be happy to hear about your loyalty. You should go pay your respects in person. It's best to stay on his good side. Trust me."

"Are you . . . heading that way now?"

"Yeah. Goodneighbor's better than anything this hell hole of a wasteland has to offer. There's nothing more for me out here."

"I could, maybe, walk there with you?"

"Don't be a suck up." Then, she sighed. "Alright, let's go."

* * *

It was a long walk back to Goodneighbor. I was surprised that Hancock's store room was this far away from his home.

"What is this place?" I asked Fahrenheit as the two big guys led the way back to Goodneighbor.

"This is the NH&M Freight Depot. Back before the war, this was a hotspot for rail cars to bring in their goods."

"Why is it so far away from Goodneighbor?"

"Lemme give you some advice, doll. Don't keep your money under your mattress. It's where everyone will look first if they decide to screw you over."

I took in what she said and nodded. I could understand that.

"In this wasteland, everyone will milk anyone for all they've got. Down to the last cap and the clothes on their backs." She took out a cigarette pack from her back pocket and put one between her lips. She offered me one, and I politely declined. She shrugged and put the pack back in her pocket. She searched her left front pocket for a flip lighter and lit her cigarette, taking a deep, long drag from it.

"What's the story with Hancock? How did he really become mayor? He doesn't seem like the type to be interested in politics."

"It's not the politics that matter. It's keeping everyone safe and happy. The misfits like us. The drifters and the gamblers and the swindlers. The forsaken, the broken, the lost, the damned, and the forgotten. Goodneighbor is a refuge to those in need, so long as you remember who's in charge."

"And what are you to Hancock?"

"I'm his bodyguard. You mess with Hancock, you mess with me."

"Didn't think a guy like him would have a bodyguard."

"You make a lot of enemies in the midst of preaching freedom. You'd be surprised how many people want him dead. I'd take a bullet for him in a heartbeat."

I half smiled. "He must mean a lot to you."

"He means a lot to everyone. He's what keeps that town going and what keeps people in line. He's respected because he's honorable, fearless, intimidating, and generous in equal parts. He takes no shit."

I was beginning to look up to Hancock myself. He was charismatic and charming for a ghoul. His personality showed that he knew what it meant to truly be free. Someone that can treat you like family just upon meeting you was rare these days.

"Have you and Hancock ever – "

"Fucked? No, sweetheart." She flicked the ashes from her cigarette and smiled.

"I was going to say 'dated,' but if you want to put it bluntly."

"He's not my type. _You_ might be, though."

I instantly clammed up. I didn't take her for a lesbian.

She laughed. "Chill out. I'm messing with you. No joke, though, you look pretty good for a merc. You're barely dirty."

"Uh, thanks, I guess. But I'm not a merc."

"Then why did you hook up with Bobbi?"

"I needed the caps . . ."

She looked incredulous. "Why didn't you just ask Hancock to help you out?"

"First of all, I don't want to owe anybody. Secondly, you don't just go up to someone you don't know and ask them for money, no matter what their social status."

She smiled even wider, more amused than before. "Someone who isn't looking for a handout. That's a rarity."

We continued to talk a while until we finally reached Goodneighbor. She stepped into the State House first to talk to Hancock. After their talk, she let me inside and left the room.

He looked as happy as a kid in Nuka-World. "Well, if it ain't Bobbi's little patsy. Here, for protecting my stash. Two-hundred caps." He handed me the little bag. It rattled in my hand as it fell. I smiled widely, knowing it should have been enough to cover my trip to the Glowing Sea.

"Wise decision, putting Bobbi down like that," he continued.

"So . . . we're okay?"

"We are." Then he got all serious on me. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. "Lemme tell ya. This classy little tricorner hat of mine is getting heavy. Am I turning into The Man? Some kind of tyrant? I spend all my time putting down the people I would have been proud to scheme with just a few years ago. I need to take a walk again. Get a grip on what really matters: living free."

"Can you just up and leave Goodneighbor? Aren't you the mayor?"

"Hey, the mayor's still the mayor whether he's 'in residence' or not. I've walked outta here plenty of times. Keeps me honest. Can't let power get to my head. That's not what being in charge of Goodneighbor is about."

"Well, I'll see you around, Hancock."

"Yeah. You too. Gonna take some time to think about all this. And hey, you ever need a good-looking ghoul to watch your back, let me know."

I smirked. "Alright. Thanks." I felt my heart flutter strangely. The mayor took that much of a liking to me?

I guess I was still grinning when I left his office. One of his ghoul guardsman by the door looked particularly unpleasant, but I smiled and waved anyway with the look of a dumbfounded idiot.

"What'cha admiring? The clothes, or the man wearing them?" He smirked with a smooth expression.

My expression flipped instantly. "Shut your mouth." I turned to another guard who looked a little less like an asshole. "Can I ask you where – "

"What do I look like? A bartender? Take your rambling to the Third Rail. Geez . . ."

"The Third Rail?"

"The bar downstairs. Beat it."

He pretty much answered my question. I made my way down to this bar to see what was happening. It had been a while since I had a drink, and I felt like I earned it.

At the top of the stairs before going into the bar, a man – a ghoul to be precise – in a derby hat and a tuxedo greeted me. "Mayor Hancock says newcomers are . . . welcome . . . in the Third Rail. Go on in." He didn't sound too thrilled about that notion.

Inside the Third Rail, it was literally built into an old subway station. They had a bar, a robot bartender, a band, a singer, and enough chairs and tables to fit half of Goodneighbor inside. I could tell that this was the pinnacle of the town.

A woman at the bar spotted me. "What? Another one of those mercs looking for MacCready . . ." She shook her head. "He's in the back room," she called to me.

Why did everyone think I was a merc? It must have been Kellogg's stolen outfit that I flautned.

I entered the back room out of curiosity to see just who this MacCready was.

Inside, I heard passive-aggressive voices. A gruff man was talking to another man, who had a lighter, happy-go-lucky type of voice. I peeked around the corner. There were two big men conversing to a guy sitting in the red chair there by the wall. The guy in the chair had a sniper rifle propped up against the wall.

He wore a green cap, a green and tan duster, combat boots, and had dark brown hair with a perfectly trimmed beard. His duster and his shirt both had long sleeves. The only way I could tell this was the fact that his duster had one of the sleeves completely ripped off at the shoulder. The ends of the duster was ripped and covered in small tears and holes in the fabric.

"Can't say I'm surprised to find you in a dump like this, MacCready," said one guy.

"I was wondering how long it would take your bloodhounds to track me down, Winlock. It's been three months . . . don't tell me you're getting rusty. Should we take this outside?"

"It ain't like that. I'm just here to deliver a message."

"In case you forgot, I left the Gunners for good."

"Yeah . . . I heard. But you're still taking jobs in the Commonwealth. That isn't going to work for us."

"I don't take orders from you. Not anymore. So why don't you take your girlfriend and walk out of here while you still can?" He didn't sound too confident.

"What?!" The second man looked at Winlock with annoyance. "Winlock, tell me we don't have to listen to this shit . . ."

"Listen up, MacCready. The only reason we haven't filled your body full of bullets is that we don't want a war with Goodneighbor. See, we respect other people's boundaries . . . we know how to play the game. It's something you never learned."

"Glad to have disappointed you."

Winlock chuckled. "You can play the tough guy all you want. But if we hear you're still operating inside Gunner territory, all bets are off. You got that?"

"You finished?"

". . . Yeah. We're finished. Come on, Barnes."

The men brushed right past me without as much as giving me a second glance. I figured now was a safe time to approach this MacCready character. My curiosity was getting the better of me, as it had been lately. I kept reminding myself that my curiosity was going to get me killed one day.

"Look lady," he said as I entered the red-carpeted room, "if you're preaching about the Atom or looking for a friend, you've got the wrong guy. If you need a hired gun . . . then maybe we can talk."

A hired gun, huh? Never thought about it before. And I had just rolled in plenty of caps. He wasn't bad-looking, either. "Maybe. Why don't you tell me who those guys were first?"

"You like sticking your nose in other people's business. They're a couple of morons looking to climb the ladder of success by stepping on everyone else on the way up. You shouldn't be surprised, though; that's how it goes when you run with the Gunners."

"Sounds like you can handle yourself. But I worry about those guys throwing a wrench in the works."

"Heh. If you're worried about Winlock and Barnes, don't be. They couldn't kill a squirrel with a rocket launcher. Now, what about you? How do I know I won't end up with a bullet in my back?"

"You don't. That's part of the risk, right?"

"Can't argue with that. Tell ya what. Price is 250 caps . . . up front. And there's no room for bargaining."

I smiled. " _Everything's_ negotiable. Would you take 200?"

"You drive a hard bargain, but you just bought yourself an extra gun. All right, boss . . . let's get outta here."

"Wanna grab a drink first?"

"I like you already."

We went to the bar and MacCready ordered a bourbon while I took a vodka. It was nice to feel the burn in my throat again after so long. I had stopped drinking entirely after I got married. Nate and I shared a glass of wine now and again, but it wasn't often. Only for special occasions. It wasn't until Nate got stressed with his job and me being pregnant and on maternity leave that he started drinking it more often. Whole bottles . . .

I shook Nate out of my mind and took another gulp of my vodka.

"You come here often?" MacCready asked.

I raised an eyebrow at him and smirked. "Kind of cliché, don't you think?"

He laughed. "Nah, not like that. You look like a merc yourself."

"I'm far from a merc." I took another drink of my vodka. "I'm more like an ex-lawyer slash widow slash emotionally unstable mental case."

"Wow. No wonder you wound up in Goodneighbor." He sipped his bourbon. "Lawyer, huh? Not many of those around anymore."

"Long story short, I'm two-hundred years old."

"You're shittin' me."

"I wish I was."

I went through the whole story after that, leaving out the sentimentality. He listened intently as we drank and I spun my web of sadness before him.

Our drinks were gone and I asked the robot what he had on offer.

"Oi, we got beer. And if you ain't buyin' beer, you ain't buyin'." The robot looked a lot like Codworth – another Mister Handy bot. He had a British flag sticker on his rounded body, and he had a distinct English accent. Not like Codsworth's. This robot's was more along the lines of improper and he used a lot of slang. He wore a little black derby hat on his head, similar to the one the bouncer was wearing that greeted me when I first arrived.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the singer exit the stage. She wore a red dress and had a straight, black hair cut. "Who's the singer?"

"That is Magnolia. The flower of the Third Rail. Anything you want to know about her other than that is her business."

"Is this your place?"

MacCready and the robot laughed.

"Wot? Nah, gov'. This place is Hancock's. Ole' Charlie just keeps the floor clean and the drinks dirty. Now, are you gonna order, or wot?"

"Sure. Give me another vodka."

"Don't bother tippin'. I'm already overchargin' ya . . . " he mumbled as he poured me another glass.

"You can always count on ole' Whitechapel Charlie to keep you drinkin' until you can't sit up straight," said MacCready after he ordered another bourbon.

"Is that what we're doing? Getting shit-faced?"

"Nah, that wasn't the plan. Which makes me wonder: what _is_ the plan, boss?"

I took another sip of my drink. "Well, I need someone who can watch my back, who knows what he's doing, who knows how to make caps, and who can teach me a thing or two about guns."

"Then you came to the right place. Although, you seem to be doing fine on your own."

"I have to make it through the Glowing Sea . . . I need to be prepared for anything in there. I'm not nearly strong enough for something like that."

"You do realize that this kind of teaching is going to take a while, right?"

"How long?" I frowned.

"Two, three months? At the least?"

I huffed. I guess I shouldn't have expected to learn everything overnight. But I needed to get to Shaun . . .

After we finished our drinks, Charlie approached me again. This time, he offered us something more than drinks.

"Now that you're all liquored up, I got a proposition for ya. I need a dirty girl to do some dirty, dirty work. Blood on the pavement. Bodies on the ground. That kind of thing. Interested?"

It was no different than what I had been doing. Though, I was feeling pretty buzzed. I only thought about how much I was going to get paid. "I wanna hear details."

"I got a certain anonymous client who's payin' top dollar for a cleanup job. Three locations. Everyone inside. No witnesses. Only catch? It's all in town, in the old warehouses, so I can't use my regulars. Too noticeable. That's where you come in. The job's 200 caps. Payment after it's done. And don't worry . . . I'll know when it is."

I didn't want another episode like the one I had with Bobbi. "I don't do work unless I know who's paying the bills."

"Not. Your. Concern. Now, you takin' the job or wot?"

If I couldn't know who the client was, I at least wanted extra pay, for insurance. "Three locations? That's a lot of time . . . A lot of bullets . . ."

"I guess we could sweeten the pot a bit. 250."

I smirked. I'm getting my money back that I spent on MacCready, and then some. "I'll get it done."

"You'd betta'. Now go out there and bust some heads."

* * *

"Ugh. Nothing says 'welcome' like the stench of urine-soaked garbage."

We walked through the alley in Goodneighbor and checked out the warehouses.

"If you hate it here so much, why did you settle down here?"

"Made a deal with Hancock . . . long story short, I get to stay here and do mercenary work, and he gets a small cut."

I made sure no one was looking and picked the lock on the storage room door. Or tried to anyway. I was struggling with it, as I always did.

"Here, let me do it," said MacCready. He took the bobby pin from me and picked the lock almost effortlessly. He handed it back to me.

"How did you do that so easily?" I asked.

"Practice. Now, shh."

We snuck inside and took a look at our targets. They all looked like triggermen and mobsters to me. Fedoras, suits, and machine guns everywhere. It didn't take much to take them out. I had plenty of Molotov cocktails that I had saved up from when I ran into those super mutants. Super mutants seemed to love Molotov cocktails.

We cleared out one warehouse in a flash.

"That's how we do things around here," MacCready boasted. He proceeded to steal from the boxes laying around the room. He pocketed a stimpak and a few caps.

I gave him a slightly judgmental look.

"What? Don't look at me like that. How many stimpaks do _you_ have?"

"Two . . ."

He tossed me one. "You gotta take care of you before you take care of anybody else."

I shrugged and put the stimpak in the bag on my back.

Next warehouse, same old shit. MacCready picked the lock. We shot up the guys, took what loot we could find, and made for the last warehouse.

"Let me show you," MacCready said. He took a bobby pin from a little case shaped like a matchbox from his pocket. He took the end of it and jabbed it into the lock. "You have to feel the tumblers, hear them clicking." He leaned his ear close to the door.

I leaned in toward the doorknob to listen in without thinking. Our noses were almost touching. I could feel my face get hot. I hadn't been this close to a man in a while.

He cleared his throat. "Sorry. I, uh – why don't you give it a shot?"

I took the bobby pin and fidgeted with the lock. It was easier after he explained it to me. I got it unlocked.

"Good job."

Inside was the same as the other warehouses, except this one was particularly full. We still managed to take them out. I was grateful that MacCready gave me an extra stimpak. I needed it after a bullet nicked me in the arm.

We returned to the Third Rail and reported to Charlie.

"Hey, Charlie," I greeted him.

He wasted no time getting down to business. "I've heard some exterminators cleaned out the rats in the old warehouses. Wouldn't know anything about that, would ya?"

"I might. Depends on what you have for me."

"Here you are. Every single cap. As agreed."

He handed me a bag of 250, and I couldn't have been happier.

MacCready and I took a seat in the back room where I met him a few hours prior. I wasn't thinking at first with my head being a little fuzzy from the vodka, but he deserved half. I gave him a cut. 125 for both of us.

"Don't mind if I do," he said, pocketing the caps. "I'd walk a hundred miles if I knew there was a pile of caps waiting for me at the end. Didn't think of it as a partnership or anything, but I'm not going to turn down you down."

"What do you mean?"

"You point, I shoot. Pretty simple arrangement. Yet, you gave me half your pay."

"I don't mind. You helped me out. Think of it as an investment for the next few months you'll be spending teaching me.

"Heh. Partnering up with you sure beats drinking myself blind in Goodneighbor. Though, I don't see why we can't do both."


	15. Ch 15: The Love Shack

**Chapter 15**

 **The Love Shack**

* * *

MacCready and I spent a lot of time together after that. We did odd jobs of my choosing. He taught me a little bit of everything as we went along. Everything about scavenging, guns, lock-picking, inventory management, price haggling, what guns to use and what guns to avoid. For about a month, we traveled around the Commonwealth, helping a few people out here and there.

We did a few Minutemen errands for Preston, a building job or two for Sturges, some detective work for Valentine, and some weird requests, like boosting the Diamond City Radio host's courage or finding paint for Abbot, the historian of Diamond City.

In return for MacCready's helpfulness, I always gave him half the caps I earned. I think it was starting to make him feel like he owed me or something because he eventually started making a fuss about me always paying him.

He seemed to like it in Sanctuary when we stayed there, and he usually got along with Preston. He thought that Preston's goals were too high, and Preston thought that MacCready was wasting his time only looking out for himself when he could be working toward a greater good.

Codsworth hinted around to me when we were there that MacCready seemed to be a gentleman and a 'good friend' to me.

One day in particular, we were in Sanctuary helping Sturges with a few things. MacCready was having a pretty good time, drinking a beer in between breaks and making conversation with Sturges. I decided it was high time to check up on Mama Murphy.

"You need the Sight? It's telling me mentats this time. They're usually for scientists and tech types, but who's to say ole' Mama Murphy ain't a closet genius? Ha ha ha."

I grinned at her and handed her some mentats.

"Ah, that's it . . . You're walking into a sea, but it's not water you're afraid of drowning in. It's something . . . invisible . . . radiant. It burns everything in it, but . . . no, I can feel them. There's people. Calling out to something. Chanting. They can show you the way . . . but . . . they're so hard to read. Be careful around them, kid." She coughed. "Bah, damn chems acting up again . . ."

"People? In the Glowing Sea?"

"You'll find what you're looking for, kid. I know it."

It was a head-scratcher for sure. The Glowing Sea was highly irradiated from what I heard. Was the Institute scientist among the people Mama Murphy saw?

"Hey, what's up?" MacCready asked.

"Oh, nothing. I was just talking to Mama Murphy a while."

"I've never been the 'hammer and nails' sort of guy, but Sturges sure knows a lot."

"You having a good time?"

"No. But it's what you pay me for."

Within the next few weeks, we were able to set up a radio beacon, a better water pump by the river, an inn with five rooms and a bar, and a junk wall around the town made of wood, old tires, and old chain link fencing, and barbed wire. We spruced up the rest of the houses and planted almost an entire field in the middle of town behind Sturges' workshop. We had melons, tatos, corn, mutfruit, razorgrain, and gourds growing. Marcy, to my amazement, took it upon herself to try growing herbs and wild flowers that can be used for medicines and other things, such as carrot flower, silt bean, hub flowers, and mutated fern flowers.

We had a total of ten settlers including the original gang. Sturges was getting some new blueprints drawn out for street lamps and a small factory. Preston and I took on Minutemen missions often, leaving MacCready to relax in Sanctuary. By this time, MacCready and I had been traveling together for two months now. He, Preston, and I had gotten very close. We shared drinks at the inn, scavenged the houses in the old town ruins together, and built Sanctuary up with our bare hands. We had a few troops in every settlement that we helped – people who were brave enough to join our cause or simply felt indebted to us.

MacCready wasn't into the whole goody-two-shoes thing, but he did mention that we should have a schoolhouse at some point. He had a soft spot for kids, I could tell. The way he talked about how he grew up in a place called Little Lamplight in the Capital with a bunch of other kids. He apparently used to be the mayor of Little Lamplight back in the day, and here he was, ten years later, roaming the Commonwealth with me.

It really was a small world. And it felt even smaller after the war.

I was lifting a few weights with MacCready behind my house in the backyard, talking about whether or not super mutants were all male, speculating the fact that they had to integrate somehow, when Preston approached me with a serious expression. I could tell he was trying to contain a degree of excitement, the way the corners of his mouth would turn up and then he'd recompose himself.

"General."

I put the weight down on the ground and rubbed my sore muscle. I had been beefing up quite a bit in the last few weeks. It almost didn't kill me to pick up Fahrenheit's minigun anymore. "What's up, Preston?"

"We can finally think about more than just survival. We've gotten big enough that we're having trouble communicating with all our settlements."

"That _is_ a problem."

"It's a _good_ problem to have. And I have a solution."

"Okay, Preston, what's your amazing scheme?"

"I think it's time to retake the Castle. It used to be the Minutemen HQ, way before my time. Well-fortified, centrally-located, and most important – it has a powerful radio transmitter we can use to broadcast to the whole Commonwealth."

I stood up from my chair. "Back up. What happened to it if it was so 'well-fortified?'"

MacCready snickered.

"This was long before I joined up, but the story I heard was that some kind of monster came out of the sea and destroyed the fort. A lot of the leaders were killed in that battle, and I guess nobody ever felt it was worth the risk to try to retake it. I've always wondered if losing the radio station was the beginning of all our later problems."

I shrugged.

"So, should I have an assault force assemble near the Castle?"

"Eh, I'll think about it and get back to you."

"Your call. Just let me know when you're ready to pull the trigger." He turned and made his way back to his usual lookout post.

I glanced over at MacCready, who looked a little amused. "He acts like you already said 'hell yeah, let's go.'"

"He always acts like that."

"I give the guy credit. Although, he's gonna drive some unfortunate lady crazy if he ever finds one."

"Are you kidding? Preston's married to his job. He doesn't have time for a wife."

After giving it some more thought, I decided that it would be best to retake this Castle. I told Preston that night that we'd look into doing it first thing in the morning.

Mama Murphy was looking particularly lonely in her chair tonight, looking out at everything we've grown in the field. She looked calm. Serene. I approached her and sat down on the ground next to her. "You doin' okay, Mama Murphy?"

"I'm fine, kid. Just looking at all we've done together. Taking it all in. I told you Sanctuary would grow. I saw it . . ."

"Need a pick-me-up tonight?"

She smiled. "Med-x this time. Another chem, another window to look through."

I rummaged through my bag and gave her a syringe of med-x, a strong painkiller.

She injected it into her veins. "It just makes everything feel good, don't it? I'm starting to see clearly . . ." She spoke slowly and cautiously with her eyes closed and her body relaxed. "I see you . . . the mighty hunter . . . only what you're hunting ain't an animal, or a man. It's something different. Maybe something more than human. But . . . what's this? I see a man in a white outfit. Standing over your prey. And he says something . . . it's hard to make out . . . But I'm tryin', kid. He says "Z2-47, initialize factory reset. Authorization code Zeta-5-3-Kilo." And then . . . he falls . . . and he's still . . ."

Her eyes flew open and she started wheezing. "I can't . . .!"

I jumped up and threw my hands on her arm, moving her back and forth. "Mama Murphy?!"

She sucked in a deep breath. "Almost thought I couldn't breathe there." Her breaths came ragged. "Agh. Heart's beating like there's no tomorrow. Gonna need to rest . . ."

 _Maybe this should stop . . ._

* * *

And when morning came, he hastily gathered up an assault force. We gathered our things and a few supplies and made our way there. It was mostly out toward the east coast. This Castle apparently had a good view of the ocean. Preston knew where it was, so I didn't bother having him mark it on my map. He led the way like a bloodhound following a rabbit's trail.

MacCready complained the whole way, but I assured him I'd pay him after we got the job done.

When we finally reached the Castle, I realized it was the old Fort Independence, wasted away by years of unforgiving war and harsh weather. We stopped at a little food mart called "Ivan's" and talked over a plan of action with the few Minutemen soldiers we could muster. MacCready sat on the sidelines with his arms crossed.

"There it is." Preston pointed to the crumbling structure on the hill. "Pretty impressive, huh? Now you can see why I wanted to take it back."

"Maybe . . . those walls could definitely use some work."

"I'll admit, it's seen better days. But the Minutemen have never been afraid of hard work. Our primary objective is to clear the courtyard. That's where we should see the most opposition."

"Clear it from what?"

"Hostile mirelurks. With the Castle being this close to the sea, mirelurks used it as a refuge. Now, the wall on this side is the most exposed, but if we circle around south, we could also use the main gate."

"What are we waiting for?" a male soldier spoke up. "Let's just get in there and shoot those lobsters!"

"No," said a female soldier. "If we split up, we can flank them from both sides. It'll be like shooting fish in a barrel."

"Why not let them come to us?" asked a settler who volunteered for the mission. "We set up a firing line on this side, we can draw them out."

Preston scratched his head, then looked to me for an answer. "Well, General, what do you think?"

This was the first time I had to start thinking like a General. I put together everything I had learned from everyone since I started fighting my way through the wasteland. What I knew about mirelurks was that they were easily angered and would attack anything that got too close, except other mirelurks. It would be rather easy to draw them to us using a firing line. I didn't like the idea of just running in their with our dicks hanging out. And I didn't want to split up and flank them, because our strength lied in numbers.

"Let's let them come to us," I said. "Set up a firing line, then I'll draw them out."

"Sure, whatever," said MacCready from the corner. "Better you than me."

"Sounds good," said Preston. "We'll hold back and wait for them to come to us. Just don't get yourself trapped in there. Alright, people, you heard the General. Let's move out. General, try not to draw their attention until we're in position."

I watched as my soldiers got in place and lined up on the closest side of the wall. Prestion was right, this side was the most damaged. I could almost see everything inside the Castle's walls from here through the huge chunk that was missing.

"This must have been one heck of a circus when the Minutemen were in town," MacCready mumbled when we approached it's massive structure.

I carefully made my way into the courtyard of the castle with my gun drawn. MacCready hung back a little. Then, the first mirelurk appeared. It didn't take long for two or three more to pop up from the ground, revealing their massive hold on this place. They were coming up fast, and I started firing and backing away from them. Once they got close enough to my firing line, they open-fired and took out as many as they could, with me ducking out of the way.

The clouds had completely taken over the sun. It started to rain, making everything slick and muddy. Rainwater was pouring into my eyes in no time, but at least we got the mirelurks cleared out.

Next, we focused on clearing out the mirelurk eggs. There were nests all over the place – on top of the walls where the lookout posts were stationed, all over the courtyard, inside the barracks. The eggs that wouldn't hatch upon approach, we collected and put inside a large box by the radio tower. No doubt, we were having mirelurk omelets for dinner after this.

Suddenly, the ground started to shake.

"What the hell was that?" Preston gasped.

"Screw this," said MacCready, ready to walk off.

I grabbed the sleeve of his duster and gave him a firm look. "Don't be a wuss. We're seeing this through, no matter what it is."

"General!" yelled one of the Minutemen standing on the wall facing the ocean. "It's coming!"

I rushed over to see what the fuss was about and looked out toward the sea. A huge, ugly mirelurk covered in seaweed, barnacles, and spikes emerged from the ocean and was headed straight for the Castle.

"What is that thing?!" I yelled.

Preston shouted, "A queen mirelurk! Get back!"

It took all the firepower and grenades we had to take the bitch down. It was hard to fight her because she spewed irradiated acid at us, much like a bloatfly, but this acid was different. It started to eat away at your clothes and burn your skin. It caused you to become sick with radiation poisoning. I passed out a rad-x pill to everyone I could reach while taking cover and dodging the queen mirelurk's massive tail and crab claws. Baby mirelurks crawled from between her legs and nipped at our feet, making it difficult to even hide from her.

Eventually, she died, like all the rest. The Minutemen celebrated and cheered. Preston couldn't have looked more pleased.

"Okay, people," he addressed, "the General and I are going to take a walk around the Castle, see what shape she's in. The rest of you, clear out any remaining mirelurks or eggs you find." He nudged me with his elbow, his laser musket still in hand. "Let's go see if there's anything left of the old transmitter."

We examined the mess of wires and cords attached to a metal control panel. Next to it was a desk, a chair, and a speaker. Above it was a tin roof, and above that, a radio tower stood tall in the middle of the Castle's courtyard.

So far so good. I didn't see anything out of place. Everything was still connected and the radio tower was still standing. "Once I power this up, we'll be ready to broadcast," I told Preston.

"Well, I guess it could be worse. See what you can do with it. I'm gonna see what else is left in this old place."

We scrapped what we could, and I rounded up as much steel, copper, and oil as I could find to repair a bunch of the old generators. After I got the lights working inside the Castle halls, I started up the radio again.

"Wow!" Preston gazed up at the radio tower, shielding his eyes from the rain. "We really did it! I've been watching us fall to pieces for so long, I just . . . this is really something."

I gave him a half-smile.

"You aren't gonna start crying, are you, Garvey?" MacCready teased.

He chuckled and composed himself. "It's just so amazing. Now we've got to pay off on what we've started. Bring the whole Commonwealth together, and make it last this time. So, you know . . . back to business."

"No rest for the heroes of the Commonwealth?" I jested.

"We can take a breather. But with Radio Freedom up and running, we can broadcast alerts to you anywhere, anytime. You'll be notified immediately if a settlement needs help."

"Oh, boy," I said with little to no enthusiasm. "That sounds . . . great."

"I think you've earned yourself a rest, General. You should check out the General's quarters. I think you'll like it. Me and some guys are gonna get the kitchens set up and get some of these mirelurk eggs cooking."

"Sure thing. Thanks, Preston."

MacCready and I made our way to the General's quarters. I wasn't expecting a first class hotel room, but to my amazement, it wasn't far from it. It had a bed, a cabinet, a dresser, a long table and chairs for meetings, a nightstand, even paintings on the walls and whiskey in the cabinet.

"Oh, hell yeah," MacCready said when he spotted the whiskey.

I wasn't eyeing the alcohol. I was eyeing my new toy laying on the table. A missile launcher, in all its glory. I smiled. Preston was right. Retaking the castle was the best course of action.

* * *

The mirelurk omelets were delicious. Preston said he stopped counting at fifty-two mirelurk eggs. We'd have enough to last for at least two weeks, as long as we could get the old refrigerators repaired. I wasn't sure that they'd work at all, but we would give it a shot.

In my new room, MacCready helped me set up. The table was unbearably dusty, and some of the chairs were broken. I moved the bed to the center of the far wall and set up some candles because I didn't have working lamps. After we were done, we popped open the whiskey from the cabinet.

We were sitting in two chairs side by side at the table, one little candle illuminating the table. It wasn't long before we both downed a bottle of whiskey. MacCready helped himself to a box of cherry cigars on the dresser and lit one for himself. He kicked off his boots and put his hat on the table. "Damn, it feels good to just sit down."

The room was quiet as I propped my elbows up on the table and tried not to nod off.

"Shh!" he hissed.

I jerked my head up, nearly knocking myself over in my chair.

"It's quiet in here . . . too quiet . . ." He laughed and slapped his knee. "Oh, man. I've always wanted to say that . . ."

I giggled drunkenly.

"Ah, but don't get me wrong. I complain a lot, but it's nice to be on the open road. Goodneighbor was starting to wear out its welcome."

"I've never lived there so I wouldn't know."

"And you're better off for it. Trust me. Can't get much rest there when you're sleeping with one eye open. Still, it was the best place for me to set up shop."

"How so?" I was seeing double, but I was still able to have a half decent conversation.

"Diamond City's goons would have run me out of town and wandering the Commonwealth alone isn't the brightest plan when you're hard up for caps. Right now, I need every cap I can get."

"Sounds pretty bad." I reached for my whiskey bottle, then remembered it was empty. I was sorely disappointed. The whiskey was keeping me warm. The winter months had started moving in, and the Castle was chilly.

"I guess you could say that. Bah, I don't usually go around sharing stuff like this, but you've been pretty straight with me, so I'm going to be straight with you. Those two assh- . . . ugh, those two idiots you saw me talking to at the Third Rail, Winlock and Barnes."

"What about 'em?"

"They've been hounding me for months, and it's been driving off clients. No one wants to touch me once they learn I used to run with the Gunners."

I laughed stupidly. "Ha ha, you said no one wants to touch you."

He overlooked it and kept rambling on. "I figured if I could get enough caps together, maybe I could buy them out."

"That . . . seems to make sense." No it didn't.

"Well, it might, but even if I round up enough caps, I'm not sure how I'm going to pull it off. They have a small army of Gunners with them at all times. They may decide to just keep the caps and put a bullet in my head for good measure. If I set up a place to meet them, I'm sure they'd roll in with everyone they've got. Unless . . ."

"Unless?"

"Maybe you and I could pay them a little visit and put an end to them before they realize what's going on. And before you get that look on your face, let me just say that I wouldn't even be asking if I didn't trust you."

"If you need my help, I'm there. I'll protect you." I flexed my arms.

"Wow . . . I don't know what to say. Truth is, I haven't been able to rely on anyone since I was a kid. Everyone I've met has either tried to rip me off or plant a knife in my back. But you. You're different. We see eye-to-eye on almost everything. And I have a funny feeling you actually care about what happens to me. That's why I asked for your help."

I grinned, and he grinned back.

"I'll tell ya what. I'm going to make this easy on you. If you feel like helping me with this, we'll head over to the Mass Pike Interchange and we'll take them down. If you don't, I'm not going to hold it against you. Either way, thanks for hearing me out. It's nice to know that you care."

"Of course!"

"Speaking of you caring, where's my pay?"

"What?"

"Job's done. Castle's been retaken. You said I'd get paid."

"I don't have the money right now, MacCready. I spent it all on those shipment orders from Diamond City, you know the ones for the, erm . . . um . . ."

"Scrap."

"Scrap, yes. Aluminum and glass and shit."

"Well, that's a problem for me. I deserve some kind of payment." He scratched his beard. "I know another way you could pay me."

I scoffed. "What?"

He stood up from his chair and put his hands on the frame of my chair, his arms on either side of my head. He raised an eyebrow at me. "Come on. It's just us in here."

I lazily rolled my head back in the chair and chuckled. "I always knew you were a dirty merc."

He slowly bent his head and kissed my neck.

Chills ran all over my body. My drunken haze made me feel like I was floating, my limbs too confused to push him away.

"Let's talk price," he said.

"So we're haggling now?"

"Mhm. Let's say . . . I get one stroke per mirelurk, and one for every time Preston says the word 'Minutemen' . . ."

I slapped him on the arm – not hard because I was having trouble getting my limbs to function properly. "MacCready!"

He chuckled. "We might as well just have some fun."

He lifted my chin to his lips and he kissed me feverishly. He almost didn't seem like himself. He was never this trusting, this open with me. His hands ran down my arms, finding my hands. He moved them to his waist, urging me to explore him.

What was I doing? I was going along with this, being irresponsible and lustful and just plain out of character. But I couldn't help myself. I felt like I couldn't stop; it was just nice to feel something again. To feel _someone_. To be close . . .

He urged me out of the chair. Standing proved to be a challenge and made me almost fall over. He held up my weight and helped me to the bed.

I hastily undressed him, removing his belt, his duster, his shirt, his pants . . .

He was undressing me just as fast. My coat, my shirt, my pants, my worn out bra . . .

He pushed me down on the bed and kissed my ribs and my stomach, moving south and kissing the heated space between my legs. He explored my folds with his tongue, wetting every inch of me, making me move in ways that I haven't in a long time. It felt like ecstasy.

After a moment, he crawled on top of me, nibbling my neck and weaving his fingers into my hair. His girth stroked my mound and caused me to open up to him further. I was ready and waiting.

He pushed inside, both of us gasping at the feeling, moving in time with each other. Was he drunk? He was so fluid, I didn't think there was any way he could be as drunk as I was. He touched my neck, my breasts, my back. We slowly merged into one piece.

I ran my hands up and down his back. He was warm. He was inviting. His body brought mine comfort, melted away my pain. I felt wanted, needed, enjoyed . . . beautiful.

His strokes got deeper and he eventually started hitting that sweet spot. I moaned into his neck and ran my fingers through his short, brown hair. When he was finally ready, he rammed his hips into mine, sending me further to the brink. I screamed and grabbed hold of the blankets. He pulled himself out and made a mess of my stomach.

He collapsed on the bed beside me and panted. As we laid there and caught our breath, I realized that he wasn't looking at me. I nudged him, and he just laid there with his head turned. Then, I heard a soft snore come from his lips. He was already asleep. I stumbled my way across the room, wiped off the mess with an old shirt from the dresser drawer, and tossed it aside. I collapsed back in bed next to him and slept for what felt like ages.


	16. Ch 16: Heavy Artillery

**Chapter 16**

 **Heavy Artillery**

* * *

"SHI- CRAP!"

MacCready woke me up with his panic. My eyes flew open and my head instantly started pounding. I had forgotten where I was. I looked around the room. Stone walls, a table and chairs, a bedside table, double doors . . . my clothes on the floor . . . empty whiskey bottles . . .

 _SHIT._

I looked over and MacCready was gathering up the sheet to cover his body.

I scrambled and yanked the bottom corner of it, pulling a good portion of it out of his arms.

"Don't look!" he yelled.

"Are you kidding me? I have more to cover!" I threw it over my breasts. "What the hell happened last night?"

"Oh, man, I don't remember it all . . . I definitely know that we – we . . ."

"We did?"

"Ugh, we did. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let it come to that. Don't even look at me."

"It was my fault, too, you know," I admitted.

"I remember putting the moves on you." He covered his eyes with one hand while he held the sheets up to his crotch with the other. "Damn it damn it damn it."

We sat there like that, covering ourselves with the one sheet, trying to share it, both of us too nervous to reach for our clothes in case the other one looked at our naked body. I broke the silence.

"So, does this mean . . . ?"

"It doesn't mean anything. Let's just forget this ever happened, okay?"

I was almost relieved to hear him say that. I nodded.

He asked me to turn around so he could at least get his pants on. After he was finished, he left the room so that I could get dressed. I left the crappy bra on the floor. Who wore bras in the apocalypse?

After I got everything in order, I checked my pip-boy. The clock read past twelve, and I rushed out the door. Preston surely had his suspicions. I had hoped that, with both our lips sealed, no one would ever find out about our mistake.

I couldn't say that I didn't enjoy it. It was fairly enjoyable, from what I could remember of it. It's just that MacCready wasn't my type. He wasn't bad-looking. He was rather handsome, and somewhat strong, not too muscular but a fair build. I thought of him more as a friend than a lover, though. There was just something about him that made us so compatible. _Too_ compatible. I just couldn't put my finger on it.

The sun was blinding, making my head pound even more. The air was downright cold. I could see my breath in front of me. It was the middle of December. In the courtyard, Preston was talking to an older woman in a soldier's uniform and cap. He had short brownish-black hair and a tan complexion. She had a stern look about her, and a serious expression. She stood 'at ease' with her hands behind her back and her feet apart.

When I approached, she saluted me. "Nice to finally meet you, General."

Preston, on the other hand, was not so enthusiastic to see me. "Nice of you to join us this morning, General . . ." He was cool and collected with his words, aside from a hint of disappointment.

"Who are you?" I asked the woman.

"I'm Ronnie Shaw. Commonwealth Minutemen. At least, I was, back before old Joe Becker got himself killed and the idiots took over."

"I've heard of Joe Becker. Who was he?"

"That's just sad. General Becker used to run the Minutemen. The last real leader we ever had. After he died, there wasn't anybody left with the guts and brains to pull things together."

"So-o-o, what do you actually want?"

"Heard you were trying to get the Minutemen back on their feet. Thought I'd come and see the new General for myself. So what's your story? What makes you think anybody even wants the Minutemen back?"

This caught me off guard. Although being the Minutemen General was a huge task and a time consumer, I hadn't seen or heard of this 'Ronnie Shaw' at all. As far as I was concerned, I had done plenty more for the Commonwealth than she had, and she was coming off as abrasive.

"At least we're trying to help people. Can you say the same?"

"Don't give me attitude, missy. I've been with the Minutemen longer than you've been alive."

 _I highly doubt that . . ._

"But I've heard some good things about what you've been doing. Wouldn't be here otherwise. Now that I'm here, I can see that you really need my help."

I looked her up and down. She didn't seem like she could really stick it to the raiders or super mutants anymore . . . In a few years, she'd be as old as Mama Murphy.

"We could probably find a use for you . . ." I said as lightly as possible.

"Yeah, you're not kidding. But I had something more specific in mind. I'm probably the only one who still remembers this, but the Castle's armory was located in the west bastion. All of our equipment is stored there. Weapons, ammo, schematics, you name it. Come on, I'll show you."

I looked at Preston, and he shrugged. So we both followed Ronnie to the west part of the Castle. There was a large metal door covering the entrance. I looked it over and pursed my lips. It didn't look like it was going to budge.

"Hmm. Good. Looks like it still might be intact. Door's still sealed . . . bastion hasn't collapsed. Trick now is finding a way in."

"Easier said than done."

"Don't worry. I've got an idea. If we can't go through, we go around. Let's have a look at the northeast bastion."

"Sounds like she knows what she's talking about," Preston said from behind me as we followed Ronnie to another part of the Castle.

She led us to my quarters where MacCready was sitting at the table and cleaning his sniper rifle. He had his shirt, pants, and shoes on, but his cap and duster was still laying around. I glanced from him to Ronnie and Preston uncomfortably, hoping they didn't catch onto anything.

"This was the General's quarters," Ronnie said, "Used to be a tunnel leading from here to the armory."

She stopped at the wall to the left where there was indeed an arched doorway there, but it was filled to the brim with rubble.

"Tunnel's blocked," she grumbled. "We'll have to clear it out."

The three of us started digging the rubble out and moving it outside by the boxes until we finally got inside the tunnel.

"Let's get down there and see if there's still a way through." She took initiative and led us downstairs. Inside the door ahead was a roomy tunnel system. There were mines on the floor, so we had to be careful of where we stepped. Preston and I disarmed a few mines and pocketed them to put in the armory once we unlocked it.

As we moved through the tunnels, a robotic voice started speaking somewhere to the right of where we were.

"Movement detected. Sentrybot designation SARGE powering up."

"Well, I'll be. I never guessed the Sarge would've still been down here. Don't worry, it's one of ours."

As we went to find this sentrybot, it started shooting bullets at us as soon as we rounded the corner. We dodged back behind the wall.

"Error. File corruption detected. Initiating defensive protocols."

"Jiminy cricket, he's on the fritz! Look out!"

A sentrybot was big, brutal, and deadly. It had a small head on top of two massive shoulders, and arms as wide around as my legs. Bullets came out of the ends of its 'hands' like two miniguns. It rolled around on three big wheels, it's body bulky and heavy. I wasn't going to play around with it. I threw two frag grenades inside the tunnel he inhabited.

"System report: yellow. Primary systems have sustained significant damage."

"General, look out!" Preston was throwing a grenade of his own. I moved further down the wall and crouched up against it. He threw it toward Sarge and it went off in a flash of blue light. The Sarge blew up after that, slamming poor Ronnie into the wall behind her. The blast caught her off guard.

I gave her a stimpak and a med-x and she was back to her old self. She was tough old bird.

"What was that just now, Preston?" I asked him.

"Pulse grenade. Works wonders against all things robotic."

Ronnie looked over the smoking heap of scrap metal that was the sentrybot. "Too bad the Sarge went haywire. He's been guarding the Castle since . . . well, forever, as far as I know."

Ronnie started fooling around with the computer at the far end of the tunnel by a door lit up with a red caution light.

"Ugh, let's see. I used to know this password. 'One if by land' . . . no, that's not it. 'For the Commonwealth' . . . goldurnit. It's been a long time . . . 'United we stand' . . ."

The door to the right opened up.

"Yeah, that was it." She walked into the room beyond the door and looked around.

Preston was hanging back. Now that we were in the clear, he was taking in the architecture of the basement. "Man, I wish I could have seen the machine that dug these tunnels. It must have been something."

There was a dead body in a militia General suit. Ronnie examined it closely. "Ah, this explains all them mines. This is, or was, General McGann. He had your job back when I had joined. Must have gotten trapped down here when the sea beast attacked the Castle. He did manage to keep the armory secure. I'll give him that much. I guess the uniform is yours now, if you want it. This old geezer doesn't need it anymore. Rest in peace, General McGann. The fight is done, and the Minutemen live on . . ."

As touching as her speech was, I was eyeing the crate of expensive and rare wine on the desk next to the old, dead General: amontillado. I had only ever had it one time in my life. My mother bought me a bottle for my twenty-second birthday.

"No point in getting all sentimental about something that happened forty years ago," said Ronnie, bringing me out of my memories. "Come on, we're almost through."

Preston and I carefully took the General's uniform off of old McGann. I was going to make sure to try it on when I got the chance. It was made of a suede blue with reinforced fibers. The boots and hat was made of real leather, and the gloves had good grip. It was genuine Civil War era, just like Hancock's frock. It seemed a lot warmer than Kellogg's old merc outfit, that was for sure.

We entered the west bastion of the Castle. We were finally inside the armory. My eyes feasted upon all the heavy artillery. There were laser turrets, fusion cells, laser muskets, musket modifications, frag mines, frag grenades, a fat man, mini nukes, and a whole stock of purified bottled water.

Preston was just as excited. "Now, _this_ is what we need."

"Told you I'd get us in here," said Ronnie with a self-glorified smirk.

"I gotta hand it to you Ronnie. At first I thought we could have done this without you, but you were the only one that knew that password. And you held your own against the Sarge. I owe you an apology."

"Eh, don't go getting all soft on me. Last thing the Minutemen need is a mushy, sentimental General. Now, grab that schematic for the artillery supplies, and we'll get going."

"Artillery? Heh. I have to admit, Ronnie, having artillery would help quite a bit."

"Oh ho, we used to rain down fire on deathclaws and super mutants alike. It was a glorious thing." She walked back down the hall and pressed the red button on the wall. It opened the metal door that we couldn't get through before. On the other side was the courtyard. Instant easy access to the armory. Next, she led me to the courtyard and told me to build the artillery on every corner of the wall.

Needless to say, this project took all day. Preston and I took what we learned from Sturges and applied it to the artillery that was already there, which was practically lying in pieces. We learned how they worked and how they were built, so it helped us to build more. There were five in total.

"Gosh darn, it feels good to see artillery here again!" Ronnie was ecstatic. She gazed at the cannon-like guns on the Castle's walls. So here's the thing about the big guns. They can't fire at anything too close, but their range is impressive. That's what the smoke grenades are for. Toss one of those at the bad guys. If we have our artillery in range, we'll confirm over the radio and target our fire on the smoke. But first, we'd better do a test fire. Make sure we're hitting what we're aiming at."

She walked me out to the demolished part of the wall and pointed to some old buildings.

"See that little building over there? We'll use that for our aiming point. Keep your radio on and tuned to Radio Freedom so we can confirm we're ready."

I took my time walking over to the old Ivan's building. I turned on my radio like she suggested and tossed one of the blue smoke grenades next to the building between two old, broken down cars. The smoke rose slowly in the cold air. The blue color wafted toward me, so I took a few steps back.

There was a static on the radio, and the classical music stopped. Ronnie's voice spoke over the radio. "Okay, you've got your smoke on the target. You might wanna stand back . . . you know, just in case."

I gained a good bit of distance from the target. Preston was watching from the top of the wall with his hands over his eyes and squinting in the sunlight.

A loud boom sounded from the Castle walls and cannon balls bombarded the target area. It blew up one of the cars, sending a cloud of smoke and fire all around it. The side of the Ivan's building was soon engulfed in flames. The hood of one of the cars landed close to my feet. I wiped cold sweat from my brow and took it upon myself to step back even further.

The Minutemen soldiers manning the artillery took a few extra shots to make sure they had the hang of it. I counted about twelve cannonball shots before they took a breather.

Ronnie gave me the OK to come back to the Castle, and the classical music started playing again.

Preston was grinning from ear to ear and waiting for me at the hole in the wall. "Wow. This artillery could really come in handy. We should set up batteries in as many settlements as possible."

"Resources, Preston. Resources."

He chuckled. "I've gotta hand it to you, General. You've really turned things around for us. I never thought I'd see the day that the Minutemen had artillery support again. We should see about building them at all our settlements to expand our coverage. I know, I know. We need resources for that. But at this rate, I don't think resources would be a problem. We could set up supply lines and keep materials coming in and out of our settlements with ease. Heh, and Ronnie Shaw returns . . . she's something else, isn't she?"

I shrugged. "She's the only one left that remembers the Castle when it was the Minutemen HQ. She knew about the old armory. Gotta say, getting used to her attitude is a pain in the ass."

"I'd heard stories about her from the old-timers, but I didn't know she was still around. The fact that she's come back to the Minutemen means that we must be doing something right. And, if you've got a minute, I'd like to talk to you about something . . . different."

"Sure. I've got time right now. Go ahead."

"When we first met, I admit, I had my doubts about you. But you've done nothing but impress me. You're just who the Minutemen needed to bring us back from the brink."

"I'm not sure I'm all that, Preston."

"You don't give yourself enough credit. When I was a kid, the Minutemen were my heroes. They were the only good guys around, really. When I turned seventeen, I joined up with Ezra Hollis' company. He was one of the good ones. Really believed in the old-time Minutemen way. We had a few good years there. I felt like I was part of something bigger than me. Like I was really helping make the Commonwealth a better place."

"Sounds like you were really making a difference."

"I think we were. I _know_ we were. But, obviously . . . it didn't last. I'm sure there was a lot I didn't see, or know enough to pay attention to. You know, the politics and rivalries and bad blood between the different groups. I guess General Becker was able to keep a lid on it. Keep everyone more or less on the same team. But after he was killed, it all came out in the open. I couldn't believe it at first. These guys were supposed to be the _Minutemen_." Preston's eyes glassed over. "They were supposed to put their duty to the people ahead of everything else." He sighed. "You probably think I was pretty naive, huh? I guess I was. Still am, too, even after everything. I still believe that the Minutemen can be what I always thought they were. The good guys."

"Why are you telling me all of this, Preston?"

He shook his head. "I guess I'm just trying to say thank you, if that makes any sense. Thank you for being different than most everyone I've come across. Anyway, I appreciate you taking the time to listen.

"Of course, Preston. Was there anything else you wanted to get off your chest?"

"No, that was it. We'd probably better get back to it, huh?"

I put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a heartfelt smile. He, of all people, would always have a special place in my heart. I knew that at that moment. He was the first person I met after leaving that vault. The first person to help me, to teach me. He was like my brother. "You're one of the good ones, Preston."

* * *

"Hey, listen . . ." MacCready rubbed his neck and looked at the concrete beneath his feet. "I'm sorry about last night. It was a mistake."

We walked along the wall of the Castle as MacCready checked out the new artillery for himself. He heard the explosions from my quarters and had to come see it.

"Do you remember everything I said last night?"

"I remember some of it. You asked me for a favor. Something about the Gunners."

"I meant what I said. I do trust you. And you've been straight with me so far. I just wanted to know . . . if you still wanted to go for it."

"I wouldn't mind shooting up some Gunner territory." I smirked. "It's boring here."

"Finally. Something exciting for a change."


	17. Ch 17: He's a Demon, a Devil, a Doll

**Chapter 17**

 **He's a Demon, a Devil, a Doll**

* * *

MacCready and I completely demolished the Gunners' territory. We took a lift, the closest thing to an elevator, that took us all the way up to the broken highway bridge over sixty feet above our heads. They had an assaultron, mark three turrets, a suit of power armor, and at least fifteen guys, including Barnes and Winlock.

We killed them all. It was a slaughter. I didn't feel anything, only the sense of accomplishment when the job was done. The wasteland changed me. The wasteland turned me into one of their monsters.

And I was fucking loving it.

We looted everything worth grabbing. Chems, water, food, rare scrap, and guns. We put everything we could carry in our bags.

"Well, that should send the Gunners a message to stay off my back," MacCready said, lighting a cigarette and leaning on one of the metal railings by the road.

"I'm sure they heard you loud and clear,.".

"Definitely." He took a long drag from his cigarette and looked up at the night sky. "For the Gunners, it's always about the bottom line. They just lost this entire waystation and that cost 'em big. Besides, they have no way of knowing I was involved. Anyway, I guess I owe you a favor now. After all, you hired me, but I'm the one that dragged you out here."

I scoffed at him and took a seat on the concrete next to my duffle bag. "Well, I wasn't about to let you have all this fun alone."

He laughed. "Glad you enjoyed it. Tell you what. I'm going to give back the caps you paid me in Goodneighbor. I'll stick with you, because that was part of the original deal, but now we're even." He pulled a handful of caps out of his pocket, counted them by twos, and shoved them in a little bag. He tossed them to me, and I caught them by reflex. "There you go. I guess we're done here. Lead on, boss."

I put the caps in my bag and grinned. "You know, it's almost the end of the road for us. You've been teaching me for two months. It's time for me to head out to the Glowing Sea . . ."

"Oh, yeah? Think you'll find your son there?"

"I doubt it. I'm mostly looking for the Institute scientist that bailed. Maybe he'll tell me where my son is, though."

He shook his head. "It's a real shame." He put his cigarette out on the railing and flicked it off the side. The butt of the cigarette fell down to the ground far below. He looked around at the Gunners' makeshift base. "The Gunners had this place locked down pretty tight. Might be a decent place to rest."

"And, what, let you put the moves on me again?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Ha. No, nothing like that. There's no alcohol this time."

"Mhm."

"Shut up, you liked it."

"It was . . . nice. But I thought we were going to forget about it."

He looked at his shoes for a moment. "It's hard to forget about something so . . ." He shook his head. "Nevermind. Let's bunker down." He lifted his sniper rifle and his bag and headed toward one of the sheds.

I followed behind him, my brow furrowed in concern. We stopped at a shed that had three mattresses on the floor. He threw his things on one and plopped down. I laid down on one across from him against the far wall and set my bag to the side.

"So, you impressed yet? I told you I was a damn good shot."

I scoffed. "Is there a reason that you're bringing this up?"

"I'm not trying to gauge you for extra caps, if that's what you're thinking. I just thought you deserved to know a little more about me."

I perked up. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I'm completely self-taught, you know. Picked up a sniper rifle when I was ten and never looked back. Always thought it was smarter to hit my targets at long range. I mean, why take chances, right? Besides, I had to come up with every trick in the book to survive the Capital Wasteland."

"What were you doing in the Capital Wasteland?"

"I was born there. As I said before, lived underground in a place called Little Lamplight with a bunch of other kids. Left there when I was about sixteen. See, we had a kind of policy there: no adults. When you were sixteen, you packed up and left."

I suppressed a laugh.

"I know it sounds crazy, but having adults around was something we couldn't trust."

"Wait, how could a bunch of kids survive without help?"

"Everyone pulled their own weight, simple as that. Just like a colony you'd find anywhere, we all had our designated jobs, and we watched each other's backs. Can you believe I was actually the mayor for a while? Me? Crazy."

"Makes sense, I suppose."

He exhaled. "Nothing makes sense anymore. You just roll with the punches. Anyway, when I hit sixteen, I ended up wandering the Capital Wasteland for a while. I took the odd job here and there, but things were pretty hot with the Brotherhood of Steel running the show. So I hitched a ride with a caravan and made my way north until I ended up here. Made a pretty decent name for myself before I heard the Gunners needed some sharpshooters. Biggest mistake of my life. They were animals. Killing anything that moved if it got in their way." He shook his head. "I went with it for a while because the caps were good. But, I dunno . . . guess it started to catch up with me . . . so I quit."

I thought about all he said and bit my lip. He seems to have had a tough go. I may have turned out to be okay with revenge and murder to a certain degree, but I wasn't evil. I cared about my friends and anyone I could fully put my trust in.

He patted the mattress he sat on. "Which brings us to now. So, there you have it. My whole life in a nutshell."

I smirked. "Thanks. For sharing that with me."

"Well, you've earned it. Look . . . I know I tend to be a pain in the as- . . . I mean, I know I tend to be arrogant and come off like I want to be alone. Nothing could be further from the truth. Being alone scares the heck out of me. Now that we've been traveling together for a while, I'm beginning to realize how much I missed having someone I could depend on. I just . . . wanted you to know that I'm going to do everything I can to see that it stays this way. Well, that's all I had to say. Hope you got something out of all that. I know I did."

I did. I realized that MacCready and I almost felt like the same person. But there was something he wasn't telling me. How did he get this way? Why was he so afraid to be alone?

"You know, it really _was_ nice," he muttered.

"What?"

"That night . . . the . . . things we did."

I blushed. It might have been nice – fun, even – but I didn't see myself as the type of person to have friends with benefits. "MacCready . . ."

"You're the only person I've got, you know? I don't know if I care about you in that way, but I can't stop thinking about that night. Or at least the parts I could remember."

He was right. It was starting to feel like I was the only person he had. I had Preston, Codsworth, Dogmeat, Sturges . . . and then there was MacCready. He was as loyal as a best friend, as fierce as a soldier, as protective as a bloodhound, and as close to me as family.

We stared at each other from across the little shed. It wasn't an uncomfortable stare. It was almost like speaking, but without words.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. "I don't know what I was thinking."

I gulped down a lump in my throat. "MacCready . . ." As soon as I said his name, a flood of tears flowed from my eyes like someone just turned a water faucet on full blast. I thought my tear ducts were dried up by now, but I surprised myself. They burned; they hadn't been used in a while. "MacCready, I – I . . ."

He crawled over to sit beside me on my mattress and pulled me into a tight hug. "Shh. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Everything will be okay."

I laid my head on his shoulder. "Nate . . . I miss him so much."

"I know, sweetheart."

My heart still ached for my husband, and my world felt empty without my son. That night with MacCready was a beautiful distraction, but that's all it was. A distraction. I didn't love him that way.

* * *

It was a foggy morning. We ate some old – and I mean very old – Fancy Lads snack cakes. It had a hint of radiation to it, but it wasn't bad enough to make us sick. I was just glad to have something on my stomach. We downed a bottle of purified water.

On our way back down the lift, we didn't speak. Were we too busy feeling sorry for ourselves, or sorry for each other? I couldn't tell.

Next to a bush to the left side of us, a woman was sitting on the ground with her knees up to her chest and her arms hugging them to her. I kept my hand on my gun, just in case. We approached her with caution.

"Oh, please . . . please, can you spare some water?" she asked us, desperation in her voice. Her throat sounded as dry as a desert.

"Oh." My hand left my gun. "Sure. Here you go." I rummaged through my bag for my last bottle of water and handed it to her.

"Thank you so much. You're so kind." She drank half the bottle within a few seconds and went on her way with the rest.

MacCready was giving me a sour look. "What?" I asked.

"Nothin'. It's your loot, do with it what you will, I guess."

"I was supposed to let her die of thirst?"

"Like I said, you gotta take care of yourself first and foremost. That was your last bottle. Now I gotta split my last one with you if you get thirsty."

My eyebrows raised. "What is _with_ you?"

"Nothing, let's just get going."

We made our way back to Sanctuary for some more supplies. It was a long walk, but it was still really cold outside, so we didn't need to drink a lot of water. It would be Christmas soon. I wondered if people still celebrated Christmas here or if it died along with society. One thing I had noticed was that snow was a thing of the past. We used to get inches on inches of snow back before the war. Now, all we had was rain and radiation storms.

I thought back to the woman I had helped. Maybe I wasn't turning into such a monster after all. I smiled in spite of myself. Maybe I wasn't a lost cause.

When we reached Sanctuary, we dropped off our stuff at my house. MacCready took a smoke break on the sofa, and I went to check on how things were going. Mama Murphy was asleep in her chair on the carport of Sturges' workshop. Marcy and Jun were tending the garden with a few other settlers. Preston was on lookout. Everyone else was at the bar, shooting the shit, drinking up beer. Trashcan Carla was in the middle of town with her pack brahmin.

I stopped at Carla's first, since she was close to the front of my house. I sold her all the chems, cigarettes, cigars, and booze that I looted while I was out. I made quite a few caps from her. Next, I stopped at the bar and reminded folks that they needed to be putting in their share of the work if they wanted to make Sanctuary a flourishing community. I made a note to Preston about making sure everyone had designated jobs.

Marcy saw me walking by, and she stopped me. "I'll admit, it's not bad here. It's still a hole, but it'll do. For now."

I gave her a half-smile. That coming from her was a compliment not to be taken lightly.

I dropped off all my scrap at Sturges' workshop. He could have jumped for joy when he saw all the military grade circuit boards I dumped on the table. Then, he showed me the blueprints he had started for bigger, more efficient generators and a barn for the wild brahmin. He said we already had volunteers to corral a few brahmin for us.

I was pleased with the way things were going in Sanctuary. Soon, with any luck, we would have families moving in with children, or couples who wanted to start having children. I'd love for Shaun to grow up in a neighborhood with other kids.

I was ready to go find Virgil in the Glowing Sea, but I didn't want to drag MacCready into it. It was too dangerous. I inspected my power armor on the carport that Sturges had been slowly repairing and modifying for me. It was looking pretty good, but nowhere near ready for the Glowing Sea, and I didn't have time to wait on it. I had a hazmat suit in my bag in case I wouldn't be able to bring my power armor, and lots of rad-x and radaway. All I needed now was some extra ammo and a good stock of food, and I could leave.

I checked back with Carla. She had quite a few 10mm rounds and fusion cells I could purchase from her. MacCready came around the corner as I gave a handful of caps to the merchant.

"Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?"

"Buying more ammo."

"Don't buy any more. Wait 'til we get to Goodneighbor. Ask Hancock and Fahrenheit to lend you some of the good stuff."

"Fahrenheit already gave me her minigun. I'd hate to ask for more."

"Let me do the talking, then."

"You sure you're okay with going back to Goodneighbor?"

"I'm not too excited about going back and working alone, but it's gotta happen. I just hope you find your son. I understand what it feels like . . . er, in a way."

"What – ?"

"Anyway," he interrupted, "let's get this show on the road."

* * *

"MacCready!" Hancock greeted him with open arms. "How are ya? We've missed you here in Goodneighbor."

"You've missed losing to me in poker," he jested, shaking Hancock's hand informally.

"Ouch." He turned to me. "Hey, there's our newcomer. Been a while since I've seen you around here." He looked me up and down. "You look different."

It's true, I did look different. Almost three months later, here I was with new gear, modded weapons, more muscle, less emotion, and a bitter attitude. I had even chopped off my long hair and kept it shaggy for some time now due to everyone yanking on it when they got close enough to fight dirty hand-to-hand.

"Good to see you, Mayor Hancock," I said.

"Please, just Hancock."

MacCready asked me to come to the Third Rail with him for a drink. Hancock joined us. Down in the Third Rail, the bouncer met us as usual at the top of the stairs. He greeted Hancock formally and let us pass. Glasses were raised when the mayor of Goodneighbor made his appearance in the Third Rail.

The singer, Magnolia, was singing a pleasant slow song as we walked up to the bar.

"Give us a round of beers, Chuck," Hancock ordered Whitechapel Charlie.

"You got it, gov." He rounded up some beers from the top shelf and set them in front of us.

Hancock popped the bottlecap off his beer with finesse and pocketed it for later. MacCready opened his, and I followed suit. We raised our bottles in a little "cheers" and took a swig.

It tasted awful, but it was alcohol, so I didn't complain.

MacCready did nothing but brag on me to Hancock about how good I was getting in the wastes. About how I always had his back and hadn't let him down yet.

"I gotta say, I'm impressed," said Hancock. "You went from a timid pup to a feral mongrel. But I gotta ask, one freak to another: why the getup?"

I looked down at my own clothes. I had almost forgotten I was wearing the Minutemen General outfit all along. "General's uniform," I explained. "Commonwealth Minutemen."

He looked amused now. "Well, look at you."

I glared at him. "Not so impressed now?"

He laughed and threw his hands up. "I didn't say that . . ."

We shot the shit for a while, downing a few beers. I had about two then decided to get a room at Hotel Rexford for the night. Hancock offered to walk me there while MacCready passed out on the couch in the back room at the Third Rail.

I had butterflies in my stomach as Hancock walked beside me. His hands were in his pockets, a cigarette between his lips. "You know, you do look pretty cool in that uniform," he said. "You mayor over in Sanctuary?"

I chuckled. "No, nothing like that. I just hash out the jobs and bring in the scrap."

He shook his head. "Too bad. You'd be a damn good mayor."

"You barely know me," I interjected.

"True. But I see the way you carry yourself, compared to when you first stumbled in here with Nick. The best leaders are the ones that know what it feels like at rock bottom."

I looked him up and down. It seemed like he was describing himself more than he was describing me. Hancock was a rough character. He was far from handsome. He had bad habits and a strange sense of humor. But he had fine qualities. A diamond in the rough, so to speak. He was insanely charismatic, light-hearted, a firm believer in freedom and justice, and wasn't afraid to call bullshit.

"So, you got a ride of choice?" he asked as we passed up the Memory Den. "I'm usually a mentats ghoul myself. Makes me feel intellectual."

"You mean, like, chems?"

He snorted. "I ain't talkin' about horses."

"I don't really take any. Just occasional med-x. I honestly don't know what they do, but I find them all over the place. I just sell them to merchants for extra caps."

"You've never even . . . ? Oh, that's just sad, sister. You just wait. I'll teach ya all ya need to know."

"Yeah, sure," I said with sarcasm.

He laughed.

We reached Hotel Rexford and I turned to face him. "Are you sure you're up for traveling together? I tend to stay away from home a lot. And the Glowing Sea's no picnic . . ."

"Come on, you can't be the worst outfit I've run with. I expect we'll make trouble for ruffians of the Commonwealth. I still have some reservations, but I think we got some promise. So long as takin' care of the folks of the Commonwealth stays on the agenda."

I nodded. "Of course."

"Goodnight, sister."

"Night."

* * *

I arose from bed, stretched my limbs, geared up for the day, and left my room key on the desk in Hotel Rexford. The morning was as cold as could be expected. I could see my breath. I couldn't wait for spring. It was foggy and the sun was shrouded in clouds. I wrapped my arms around my body. My Minutemen General uniform wasn't as warm as I thought it would be in this weather.

I searched for MacCready down in the Third Rail. When I got there, he was nowhere to be seen. Not in the back room, not at the bar. But in his usual seat was a folded piece of paper. I wasn't sure if it was meant for me, but I picked it up and read it anyway because of my curiosity.

 _"Nora,_

 _"In case you come looking for me before you head out, sorry to disappoint you. Got a job offer this morning. Catch you later. Be careful out there. When you get back, I have a job for you this time._

 _Mac."_

I chuckled. _Mac._ I crumpled up the paper and tossed it back in the chair. It was disappointing that he couldn't see me off, but at least he left me a note. I wondered what the job was that he mentioned as I left the Third Rail.

Hancock was already making his way out of the State House. Fahrenheit was trailing close behind him.

"I already told you, Fahrenheit, you ain't comin'."

"What part of the word 'bodyguard' don't you understand? 'Body?' Or 'guard?'"

"I understand both clearly. Heh, more familiar with one than the other . . . but I need you to stay here and look after my baby while I'm gone. This town needs your feminine touch every once in a while."

She scoffed. "Feminine my ass," she muttered.

"Hey, there you are, Nora," said Hancock. "You missed my departure speech."

Fahrenheit turned and pointed a finger at me. "You."

Fahrenheit used to scare me. If I hadn't already experienced all the horrors of the Commonwealth, the way she looked at me and stomped toward my general direction would have made me start sweating bullets, regardless of the chill.

"You'd better bring our mayor back in one piece. If anything happens to him, you'll regret the day your mother popped you out of her screw hole."

Hancock rolled his eyes and put a hand on her shoulder. "I can take care of myself, ya know. I didn't make it this far by playing nice. I'll see ya later, Fahrenheit."

She crossed her arms and nodded – her own less sentimental way of saying farewell.

Hancock swung a bag over his shoulder and came up beside me. "Ready to get this freak show on the road?"

"Let's do it."

I was curious as to Hancock's fighting style. I'd noticed that everyone I'd traveled with so far has had their own way of fighting. Nick preferred his pistol, as did I. Preston used a laser musket almost all the time. MacCready used his sniper rifle whenever possible, but could also use combat rifles when necessary. What about Hancock?

Well, I soon found out that Hancock used a sawed-off shotgun and his sharp knife that he kept in his boot. He'd take the risk of getting up close and personal. He was always in the enemy's face. When he wasn't in their face, he was in the shadows. There was no in between. He slit raiders' throats open. He blew super mutants' heads off. He was a killing machine, and he loved every minute of it. Hell, _I_ loved every minute of it.

We traveled for hours, chatted when we could, took short breaks to eat and drink, dropped any poor soul that got in our way. It got dark sooner than I thought it would. I checked the time on my pip-boy. It read roughly 9 o'clock.

"Gettin' late" Hancock noted. "I do my best work after dark anyway."

"As much as I'd like to see your 'best work,' I think we should set up for the night."

He shrugged. "You do what you gotta." He rummaged through his right coat pocket and pulled out a mentat tin. He flipped one into his mouth and put the tin back in his pocket.

I searched around for a place to lay low until morning. When I didn't see a good place, I checked my map to see exactly where we were. I made sure to add most every location I came across in my pip-boy database. We were actually really close to the Mass Pike Interchange that I went to with MacCready to wipe out those Gunners. I had listed a few locations around it: Poseidon Reservoir, Lake Cochituate, Roadside Pines Motel, Natick Banks, and Natick Police Department. I decided the safer bet would be to stick with Pines Motel, because it was small and not as centrally located.

Raiders had taken over the motel, so we had to clear them out first. I had spotted a sweet set of raider power armor, but as soon as I started to walk for it, the ground started to shake.

"Shh. Somethin's comin' . . ." Hancock got low to the ground, and I followed suit. "What the hell is that?"

I had heard this sound once before. A low rumble, like a growl, and big, heavy footsteps. Before I could open my mouth, it lunged out in front of us from the roof of the building.

"Deathclaw! Run!" Hancock shouted.

It roared loudly, and another deathclaw popped out of the broken sewer drain in front of the police station.

"Shit, shit, shit!" I ran for cover as fast as I could, Hancock just a few feet in front of me. The deathclaws were fast. Too fast. The closest one reached for my leg. He barely missed. His claws scraped my leg from my knee to my ankle, causing a massive cut. I cried in pain and fell to the ground.

Before the deathclaw could sink it's teeth into me, Hancock shot it in the face with his shotgun. The monstrosity howled in pain, while the other practically galloped toward me.

A huge ray of red hit it in the chest, knocking it back. Loud machinery could be heard overhead. The Brotherhood of Steel flew over us in their vertibirds, lasers and miniguns blasting.

Hancock came to my side. "Come on!" He helped me up and we crawled through the destruction until we came to an old, partially dilapidated church. I didn't even know the name of the church, and I couldn't add the location in my pip-boy anyway. I was in too much pain, losing a lot of blood.

Inside, there were bodies of dead super mutants scattered around the floor. Their gore bags – fish nets full of fresh human body parts that they strew across everything as an obvious sign of their territory – hung from the ceiling and dripped with blood.

"Damn super mutants," Hancock growled between grunts as he helped me past the pews and to the back of the room. We passed the altar and walked through a doorway. Inside was a set of stairs. He brought my arm up and threw it across his shoulders, supporting my weight with one hand and holding my wrist with the other. I held onto his coat as best I could and limped up the stairs with him.

Gunfire, roars, vertibird wings, and the shouts of tin-can soldiers echoed throughout the night. We sat on an old, broken pew on the second floor of the little church. We stayed low away from the windows in case the Brotherhood found us. We weren' sure of their intentions. From what I heard, they didn't like ghouls, either, and I couldn't have them killing Hancock.

Hancock knelt in front of me and propped my leg up on his knee. "Damn. Got you good."

"There's a stimpak in my bag." I breathed heavily and pointed a shaky hand to my duffle bag I had laid on the floor.

He searched through my bag until he found the right syringe. He inserted the needle expertly into my leg, right under the knee cap, and the wound slowly started to heal.

I growled. "Fucking deathclaw ruined my uniform . . ."

Hancock chuckled. "You know, most people that run with me don't live out the day. I'm impressed."

"Pft. Don't be so impressed. I've been through worse."

He went through my bag some more and pulled out a syringe of med-x. He injected me with it without my permission, but I didn't complain. It hurt pretty bad.

"Not a lot of folks will travel with a ghoul, either. Even one with my kind of charisma."

"I'm not most people."

He nodded. "Too true, sister. I can't help but wonder. What's your story?"

"It's a long story . . ."

"Give me the short version."

I sighed. "I lived in the year 2077, during the Great War. I was put inside a vault when the bombs hit. Vault-Tec put us in cryo-chambers and froze us. During that time, my husband was shot and my baby who wasn't even a year old yet was taken from his arms. Somehow, I made it out alive, and went out to find my son's kidnapper. I found him, murdered him, and found out that my son is now ten years old and living with the Institute."

Hancock never really made drastic expressions; he usually kept his cool. He always knew just what to say. This time, though, he was completely at a loss for words. He sat there, brow furrowed, staring at the floor. "I don't even know what to say. I'm . . . sorry I asked."

"It doesn't bother me to talk about it anymore. I just want to find my son."

"The damn Institute. If there's one thing I hate, it's them. Always snatching people up in the night, replacing them with copies . . . It doesn't surprise me that they'd steal a baby."

"It doesn't matter where Shaun is; I'll find him, and I'll bring him home, no matter what."

"I believe you, sister. I'll help in any way I can."

I moved my leg slightly to test the pain, and it was better. The stimpak didn't heal it completely, but it wasn't worth using an extra one, so I made due. The pain had subsided a great deal since he applied the med-x.

The noises outside had finally gone to a halt. I had my fingers crossed that the Brotherhood had moved out for the night.

"We heading out again?" he asked as I shifted to get up from the pew.

"Yeah. This place isn't secure to sleep in."

"Alright. Just be careful. On a side note, if there's still anything worth nabbing in this place, it'll be in the houses."

We left the church and searched for yet another place to lay low. There happened to be a house still mostly intact next to the church across the street, so we went for it. In the old fridge, we found a can of Cram. It was probably slightly irradiated, just like the rest of the old prewar food, but it was something. We put it in the bag along with a silver pocket watch to sell later.

Upstairs, there was coincidentally a bunk bed we could sleep on. There was a computer still working on the desk by the window, and Hancock fiddled with it.

"Agh, it's locked."

"I'll unlock it for you," I said. I cracked my knuckles and got to work on hacking the terminal, like Nick showed me. It took a few tries, but I was finally in.

"Diary entries?" he asked, reading the titles of the choices.

I was intrigued now. The top of the computer said the user's name was "Kim Wu," an obvious Chinese name. This interested me because we were at war with China back in 2077. Hancock and I leaned in to the screen and read the entries together.

 _"The Gate: We had a really strange day today. We were supposed to go shop for Halloween costumes. But this morning, we looked out the_ windows _and saw people smashing the arch outside. There were lots of police there, but nobody made them stop. Later, a bus showed up and lots of our neighbors started getting on. I saw some of the police come into our building, and Mama took us up to the roof to play. I thought that would be fun, but we had to be real quiet and stay outside for a long, long time. Mama wouldn't let us go back inside until it was really cold and dark outside. She cried when Papa finally came home. Grownups are weird."_

 _"Moving In: I don't see why we have to live at Uncle Marshall's house, but Mama says this is our home now. I liked our old apartment in Pearwood! We don't even have our own rooms here. Everyone has to spend all day in the back room, and it's smelly. Everyone is being weird here, too. I asked when Auntie Song is going to get home but Uncle wouldn't answer, and Mama started crying. Mikey even pushed me down and tried to kick me before Papa pulled him off and sent him to sit in the corner. Papa told me later that Auntie was going away to a camp for a while. That sounds fun to me, and I had a bunch of questions about it. Papa just told me it's not for kids, and I shouldn't bring it up anymore."_

 _"Jason's Game: Papa says I'm not allowed to play downstairs with Jason anymore. I want to scream. We were playing this_ holotape _his big brother traded for at school. He said we should learn something from it. But when Papa saw me playing it he took it out and made Jason go home. He was really_ mad, _and made me go to my room. I can hear him on the phone with Uncle, arguing about the Red Menace game. I didn't do anything! It's not fair!"_

 _"World Series: I hate it here. I just want to die. The World Series started, and Boston is playing! But I can't even go upstairs to watch! Mama says there are bad people in the neighborhood today, and we shouldn't disturb them if they visit Uncle Marshall. So we're stuck in the room all day. AGAIN. The TV upstairs is full blast, but I still can't hear what's going on. I tried to call Jason so he could tell me the score, but Mama got really mad when she saw me with the phone. She said it's silly to be worried about a stupid game! It's BASEBALL, how can she not get it!? UGH, just kill me now."_

 _"SIRENS!: Everything's gone crazy. Those loud sirens came on and woke me up. They didn't turn off this time, and Uncle Marshall came running downstairs. Then we heard a HUGE BOOM! The grownups were arguing about whether we should leave. Mama is staying here with me and Mikey. I wanted to go with Papa, but he said I have to take care of Mama and Mikey. Papa put on a big coat and a scarf and a hat – he looked silly! He took all the money from the jar and said we had to stay put while he and Uncle Marshall went to try to buy food and water."_

 _"Scary People: There were people up in the house yesterday who came in while we were sleeping. Someone they brought with them was crying. I think there was a fight. They broke a bunch of stuff and said a lot of cuss words. Papa and Uncle said we are going to wait till they go to sleep then try to make a run for it."_

"Damn shame . . . I hope they made it out."

I gulped down a lump in my throat. "Me, too."

"I guess the prewar days were almost as bad as today's world, huh?"

I didn't answer. I was just ready to forget about the whole thing and go to sleep.


	18. Ch 18: Swimming the Glowing Sea

**Chapter 18**

 **Swimming the Glowing Sea**

* * *

"Hey, mind if we talk?"

We were close to the Glowing Sea now. This day was as frigid as the day before, and I was taking sips of vodka just to stay warm.

"Is everything alright?" I asked with concern.

"Yeah, yeah. It ain't anything bad. Just you taking care of Bobbi. I ain't proud of having to put you through that. That sort of dictatorial shit. Ain't usually my style."

"She tried to dupe us both. Dealing with her was the right move."

"True. But it doesn't change the fact that she's outta the picture 'cause of us. Hell, that sorta bull's the whole reason I became mayor in the first place. Some ass named Vic ran the town for I don't know how long before that." He reached his hand out to me and eyed the bottle of vodka. "May I?"

I handed it over, and he took a swig.

"Thanks. Anyway, guy was scum. Used us drifters like his own personal piggy bank. He had this goon squad he'd use to keep people in line. Every so often, he'd let them off the leash, go blow off some steam on the populace at large. Folks with homes could lock their doors, but us drifters, we got it bad. There was one night, some drifter said something to them."

"I'm guessing this didn't end well . . ."

"You guessed right. They cracked him open like a can o' Cram on the pavement. And we all just stood there. Did nothin'."

"That's a hard choice to make. I don't envy you . . ."

"Heh. I appreciate you tryin', but there's no need to sugarcoat it. It was spineless, the way I acted. I felt like less than nothing. Afterwards, I got so high, I blacked out completely. When I finally came to, I was on the floor of the old State House. Right in front of the clothes of John Hancock."

"That so?" I smiled.

"John Hancock. First American hoodlum and defender of the People." He took a gulp of the vodka. "I might have still been high, but those clothes spoke to me, told me what I needed to do. I smashed the case, put 'em on, and started a new life. As Hancock. After that, I went clean for a bit, got organized, convinced Kleo to loan me some hardware."

We carefully stepped down a steep incline.

"Got a crew of drifters together and headed out into the ruins, started training. Next time Vic's boys went on their tear, we'd be ready for 'em."

"And the fact that I'm traveling with you and not Vic would suggest things went well?"

"Oh yeah. So the night of, we all got loaded, let Vic's boys get good and hammered, and burst from the windows and the rooftops where we'd been hiding. They never even saw it coming. We didn't have to fire a shot. We didn't _have_ to . . . but we sure fucking did. It was a massacre. Once we'd mopped up, we strolled right into Vic's quarters in the State House, wrapped a rope around his neck, and threw him off the balcony. And there I am, gun in hand, draped in Hancock's duds, looking at all the people of Goodneighbor assembled below. I had to say something. That first time I said 'em, they didn't even feel like my words: 'Of the People, for the People!'"

I laughed.

"Was my inaugural address," he smirked. "Became Mayor Hancock of Goodneighbor that day. And from then on, I vowed I'd never stand by and watch. Ever again."

Something about him just hyped people up, made them climb on board with whatever he was saying. He pulled them in and made them believe in him. And that's what he did to me. "And you're never going to have to. We'll take care of the Commonwealth together."

"Good. I just hope you get where I was coming from. I ain't out to bring harm to anyone that didn't earn it. Though I'm getting the distinct idea you've got the same plan." He handed the bottle of vodka back to me. "Well, you probably heard enough of me running my mouth for one day."

I downed what was left in the bottom of the bottle. The whole time he was talking, I was getting chilly. "I don't mind. I like listening to your stories."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I got a few more for ya. We'll save 'em for later, though. Looks like that cloud of radiation is getting closer. We're almost in the Glowing Sea."

The way became clearer, because all the trees in the area had been completely demolished. Rotting tree trunks and various debris littered the ground. It was a barren wasteland. Further in, I could almost feel the radiation making my skin tingle, so I told Hancock to turn around while I changed into my hazmat suit.

I knew Hancock tried to sneak a peek a few times, but I watched him like a hawk. He knew if he tried anything too funny, I wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in his kneecap. Although, I think my new deadly nature and sarcastic personality just made him more attracted to me. I tried to ignore that fact. Hancock was a ghoul, and a junkie at that. I just focused on finding my son.

The ground was blackened as if it had been badly burned. We stepped over rocks, broken trees, oil-like puddles, and broken down cars.

"Be careful," he whispered. "It's pretty irradiated now. We must be getting closer to the center of the blast."

It's true, I could feel a slight tingle on my skin now, even through the hazmat suit. The Geiger counter on my pip-boy was going crazy.

"Watch your back. I hear there's some big uglies out here . . ." He kept his hand on his holstered shotgun.

We walked slowly through the area. Everything was turning . . . green. And hazy. Like we were walking through a green mist. It was getting hard to see, so we slowed down even more. Hancock's black eyes searched through the area. He seemed to be able to see just fine. The suit was making me uncomfortable. I felt like I was roasting inside of it, even though it was winter. The helmet felt heavy on my shoulders and I could feel sweat beading up on my forehead. The radiation must have made the air thick and hot.

"Hold up," said Hancock. He put a hand on my arm and yanked me down toward the ground. "Radscorpions."

My heart skipped a beat. "What? Where?"

"Just up ahead. One to the far left, too. Follow me and stay low." He crept along the ground with his knees bent and his back hunched over. There were some rocks just to the right of us, and he had me climb over to the other side of them. I felt better with some cover between us and the giant scorpions.

We came to a capsized factory. Don't know what it used to be; it felt like it had been ages since I had been in this area. It looked so different now, like a whole different planet, that I couldn't remember what the area used to be.

"Wanna see what we can find?" asked a curious Hancock.

I was beginning to realize that his curiosity was almost worse than my own. I nodded and drew my gun. Maybe we'd find extra supplies inside? After all, this area stayed pretty much devoid of human life. There's no way it could have been completely looted already.

We went down some concrete stairs and into a room with a metal ramp and railings, much like the ones in the vault. Down the stairs, we could hear shuffling, lazy footsteps. Hancock led the way. When we got further down the ramp, we realized it was feral ghouls. The ghouls spotted him first, but turned the other cheek. When they spotted me, however, they went crazy. They started tripping over each other to get up the stairs, no doubt planning on making a meal of me.

I had my gun at the ready. These things didn't scare me anymore. I was almost up for the challenge. There were at least ten ghouls running the stairs toward me.

Hancock and I took them out one by one as they made their way up the stairs. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

"Mmm. All the rads a ghoul could ask for." Hancock holstered his shotgun.

There was a room to the left that looked worth inspecting, but a glowing ghoul jumped down from the hole in the ceiling and landed on top of me. I tried to push him away. He snapped his teeth at me, his huge, green eyes staring straight through my helmet. He growled and drooled and clawed at me.

Hancock, with great precision, cut the ghoul's head off with one swift movement, blade in hand. He wiped it off, stuck the knife back in his boot, and helped me up. I noticed a small tear in the knee of my hazmat suit.

"Shit," I mumbled, feeling the tingle of the radiation more than before.

I looked through my bag for some duct tape. I tore off a piece and closed up the hole on the knee. It wasn't great handiwork, but it was going to have to do.

"Damn ferals," he mumbled as we exited the room. "At least raiders and mutants have the politeness to know when to die."

"Not a fan of ferals?" I asked without thinking.

"Look, just because I'm a ghoul doesn't mean I like to make friends with mindless zombie-lookin' motherfuckers." He looked around the room and didn't find anything of interest. "And I thought the city got it bad. Who knew that a place with this much radiation would be so damn dull? You know what the Glowing Sea needs? A bar. Badly."

I shook my head at him. Finally, I found something of use. Radaway, ammo, and a few other things. There were even missiles stashed in a locked safe that I had to pick, which wasn't easy, considering it was pretty dark. I stashed all my findings in my bag and continued to search the area.

There was another set of winding stairs. We walked up the stairs and found ourselves in another concrete hallway like the one from before. There was even more radaway on the shelves here, and I greedily took every single one. There was also a medical kit. To my surprise, we found psycho and buffout instead of stimpaks, but it was still worth taking.

The next set of concrete stairs led us back out of the old factory. Once again, we were at the mercy of the wide open spaces of the Glowing Sea. I checked my pip-boy. It's not like I had a marker to follow. I didn't know where I was going. I was just mindlessly wandering around in search of an Institute scientist.

Not even five seconds after we emerged, I came face to face with an oversized scorpion. I was in so much shock, I couldn't even breathe. This was the thing of nightmares. This was my true horror. Out of all the monsters and mutants and mobsters that I've fought, this took the cake.

"Get back!" yelled Hancock. He yanked my arm, pulling me back to the concrete of the stairway as the radscorpion dug underground and disappeared in an instant. At first, I thought that it had just went away. Maybe we scared it?

Then, it dug back out of the ground with four others at it's side.

We high-tailed it back inside the factory. The radscorpions were having a tough time fitting into the stairway altogether.

"That was a fucking close one," said Hancock, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Maybe we can make it out the way we came in the first time?"

"Let's do it. Beats sitting around an old prewar ruin all day."

We went through the other set of stairs. Out the entrance, I didn't see anything, but I could hear them. Their disgusting legs shuffling around above us, on top of the factory. Was there even any escaping them at this point? We had no choice. Hancock and I nodded at each other and took off running at the same time. We didn't turn back. We could hear their legs following us, but we didn't dare turn back.

We ran into another pack of ferals, who seemed to be stronger than the last ones. But then again, I noticed Hancock's own durability had spiked. It must have been the radiation.

We climbed up a rocky hillside, and in the distance, I saw something shining like metal.

"The hell is that?" asked Hancock.

"What do you see?"

"A prefab of some sort . . ."

 _The people living in the Glowing Sea, the ones Mama Murphy mentioned. Maybe Virgil is there . . ._

I took off down the hill in a dead sprint.

"Hey, wait!" Hancock tailed after me.

There were people down here – _people_. Surely one of them had to be the scientist. As I got a closer look at them, though, they looked sickly. Almost . . . crazed. I approached with more caution when a woman stopped me at the bottom of a stairway leading into a wooden hut. The hut was built in the side of the small mountain. It was almost like we were in the heart of the crater itself.

"Stop right there, stranger," said the woman in a brown robe. "You approach Atom's holy ground. Why? State your purpose, or be divided in His sight."

"Holy . . . ground?" These people didn't just _look_ crazy. There's no way a scientist could have taken up with them. "I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere."

"The Glowing Sea has no turns, only a path to Atom's Glow. And now you have reached the end of that path. You are here."

"And who are you supposed to be?"

"I am Mother Isolde."

I shook my head. "Look. I'm just looking for someone named Virgil."

"Virgil? Yes . . . we know this Virgil. What do you want with him?"

"I just need information."

"He has sought refuge with Atom. I would know more before I tell you where he is."

I sighed. If I didn't have a helmet on, I'd have pinched my sinuses in frustration.

"Children of Atom," Hancock whispered from behind me. "There's no reasoning with them."

"I _need_ his help reaching the Institute."

"I have heard of this Institute. They hide themselves, trying to avoid the power of Atom. A futile effort." She brought her hand up to her chin in thought. "In truth, this Virgil has caused some concern. Some believe his presence is an affront to Atom. Though he came to trade with us on a few occasions, we have had little other contact with him. It was quite clear he wanted to be left alone."

"But I _need_ – "

"You can find him southwest of the crater, living in a cave. I would approach cautiously, were I you. I feel he does not want visitors."

"Thank you."

We left quickly. I wasn't eager to start more conversation with Mother Isolde. But the sound of my clicking Geiger counter was starting to drive me insane.

"The Children of What Now?" I asked Hancock as we got further away from the strange settlement in the crater.

"Children of Atom. An activist, religious group that believes the radiation is some sort of divine source, and the bombs were a god's work."

"The hell . . .?"

"They call that place the Crater of Atom. I'd heard of it before in rumors from traders and caravans, but I figured it was idle talk. Didn't think anyone could survive out here without becoming ghoulified."

"Why aren't they ghouls?"

He shrugged. "Beats me. It would almost make me jealous, had I not turned out to be the sexiest ghoul alive, heh."

I rolled my eyes.

We started coming up on a cave after a while. I could barely make it out in the green mist of the Sea, but it started to come into view.

"Must be the place," Hancock muttered. "You ready?"

"I'm beyond ready," I said as I marched into the entrance to the rocky cave.

Chains with cans hanging from them were tacked to the cave's ceiling by the entrance. A makeshift trap to alert the scientist of intruders, no doubt. Then, beyond those, stood two gas-powered turrets and a search light above another cave archway. Inside the archway were more 'can chimes.' I walked through them on purpose so that we wouldn't startle him.

He had a pretty good setup inside the cave. There was a robot for his protection walking around inside. It didn't attack us, though. It must be awaiting the command. There was tech and monitors and buttons all over the place, in terminals and computers and control panels on the walls. Gadgets and tools that I didn't understand littered the metal tables inside. That's when I noticed the super mutant hovering over a hotplate on a counter.

I jumped at the sight of him. He didn't even seem hostile. He was partially clothed, unlike the usual super mutants that usually attacked me – those super mutants just wore metal and leather armor. This one just had a ripped shirt and scarf on and a pair of pants that looked as though it was going to burst at the seems trying to hold in his massive build.

He turned and noticed us. "Hold it! Take it nice and slow, no sudden moves. . ."

His English was damn near perfect, unlike the broken sentences that usually came from the mouths of super mutants.

"I know you're from the Institute. So where's Kellogg? Huh? Trying to sneak up on me while you distract me? It's not going to work. I'm not stupid, I knew they'd send him after me."

"Wait. Are you . . . Virgil?"

"You know damn well I am. What're you doing here?"

"You're a super mutant?" I had a hard time believing that the Institute would let a super mutant work for them. I had an even harder time believing that a super mutant could be a scientist.

"Yes. Clearly you have functioning eyes. Congratulations." He adjusted his glasses, which were too small for his large head. "I'm hoping you didn't come here just to point that out. Now, what do you want?"

"Look, whoever you think I am, you're wrong. Can you tell me about the Institute or not?"

"The Institute? So, they did send you, didn't they? You're working with Kellogg!"

"Kellogg's been taken care of."

"Dead? He's . . . dead? Don't you lie to me!"

"He's dead, whether you believe me or not."

"There's no question it's difficult to believe . . . Kellogg was ruthless . . . There's a reason the Institute used him to do their dirty work for so many years. I knew they'd send him after me; tried to prepare for it. But I still wasn't sure I'd make it . . . And, so, you? You killed him, eh? Then what do you want with me?"

"Why did you leave the Institute? I know you came from there."

"You know about the escape? But how?! No, it doesn't matter . . . I'm not going back. I _can't_ go back! Look at me! Why are you even here? What do you want?"

"I need whatever information you've got. Anything to help me get into the Institute."

He blinked. "I'm sorry, what? You want to get into the Institute? Are you insane? Never mind how nearly impossible that is, even if you were to succeed it'd almost certainly end in your immediate death. What reason could you possibly have for taking that kind of risk?"

"I'm trying to find my son. The Institute kidnapped him."

"Oh. Oh no . . . I had no idea. I'm sorry. Yeah, the Institute has taken people from the Commonwealth in the past. If your son was one of them, I can understand why you'd want to get in there. I can help but I'm going to need something in return."

"You help me, I'll help you."

"All right. If I help you, you're going to do something for me. Before I was forced to leave, I was working on a serum to reverse this mutation. It could return me to normal, understand? So if you get in there, I need you to find it in my old office, and bring it to me. I think that's pretty reasonable, in exchange for helping you. All right. Let's talk details."

I glanced at Hancock, who was fiddling with some of the mechanical tools on a tabletop across the cave's room.

"First thing's first. You know how synths get in and out of the Institute?"

"Yeah, they use some sort of teleporter."

"Well, well . . . not many know about it. Pretty closely guarded secret. You've certainly done your homework. It's commonly referred to as the 'Molecular Relay.' I don't understand all the science behind it, but it works. De-materializes you in one place, re-materializes you in another. I'm sure it sounds crazy, but it's reality. The Relay is the only way in and out. You understand? The only one. That means you're going to have to use it. Now, have you ever seen an Institute courser?"

"A 'courser?' What's that?"

"Another secret. Coursers are Institute synths, designed for one purpose. They're hunters. Operations go wrong, a synth goes missing, and a courser is dispatched. They're very good at what they do, and you're going to have to kill one."

"Why-y-y do I have to kill one?"

"Because you want to get into the Institute, remember? They're your ticket in. Every courser has special hardware that gives them a direct connection to the Relay in the Institute. It's embedded in the chip in their heads. You need that chip. But to get it, you'll have to find a courser. Now, I don't know exactly where you can find one. They haven't sent any after me, and sitting here waiting doesn't seem like a good plan. You're going to have to hunt one down. I can tell you where to start, and give you some help finding one, but you'll have to do the dirty work."

"Not a problem. Just tell me what I need to know."

"All right. The primary insertion point for coursers is in the ruins of the CIT, directly above the Institute. So you'll want to head there. Now, the Relay causes some pretty heavy interference all across the EM spectrum. You've got a radio on that pip-boy, right?"

I glanced down at my arm – I barely felt it there anymore.

"When you get to the ruins, tune in to the lower end of the band and listen in. You'll be able to hear the interference. Follow the signal, and it'll lead you to a courser. Then, you just have to . . . not get killed."

"You got nothin' to worry about with me coverin' ya," said Hancock with a cocky smile.

"Not going to lie," Virgil continued. "The odds aren't in your favor here. But if you do make it, remember what I said about the serum. I need it. Badly. I . . . I really do hope you find what you're looking for."

* * *

As soon as we exited the cave, we had a pretty gnarly fight with a young deathclaw. It wasn't easy. I wasted a lot of ammo on that asshole, so we needed to leave the Glowing Sea quick before we ran into anymore giant enemies.

"Whew, could use some jet after that," Hancock said once the deathclaw hit the ground. He pulled an inhaler from his pocket and took a puff of it's contents.

On our way out of the Glowing Sea, we came across another factory. A decrepit old building, nearly sunk under the dirt. There was no way in, to Hancock's dismay and my relief. His curiosity and thirst for a fight was beginning to annoy me. Though, I couldn't deny the fact that we really lucked out after we left Virgil's. We made a beeline for the little settlement of Somerville Place that consisted of one house and a small cornfield. It was almost directly northwest of Virgil's cave.

There was yet another cave that we passed between two plane wreckages. To my amazement, there was a suit of power armor.

"Fuck yeah," I said as I made Hancock turn around so I could put my General's suit back on. I dug through my bag, swallowed three pills of rad-x, and quickly got dressed. The radiation burned my skin, but the rad-x was keeping me from getting riddled with radiation poisoning. After I was dressed, I sucked down a radaway for good measure and stepped into the power armor. It already had a working battery, thanks to the dead raider that lay next to the suit of armor. Poor guy. Better him than me, though.

After we finally made it back to the Commonwealth and out of the irradiated Glowing Sea, we wasted no time traveling to the old CIT ruins. I knew exactly where they were.


	19. Ch 19: The Best Course of Action

**Chapter 19**

 **The Best Course of Action**

* * *

"You handled yourself pretty well, sister," said Hancock with a lazy grin as we walked past Diamond City's walls. I had to stop and get more ammo somewhere before going into the CIT ruins.

"You weren't so bad yourself, Mayor Hancock," I said through the helmet. It made my voice sound like a tinny echo.

When we got to the gates of Diamond City, Hancock stood still a few feet away. "I think I'm gonna wait out here for a while," he said, scratching his neck. "No ghouls allowed, remember?"

"Oh, yeah."

"To tell you the truth, I wouldn't wanna set foot in there anyway."

I nodded. "I understand. Watch my power armor for me?"

"Sure, sure."

I got out of the armor and left it standing by the gate with Hancock. I went inside and quickly looked for Arturo's gun shop. It was getting late, so I had my fingers crossed that he was still open for business. There he was, selling his usual gear. I bought what I could afford without breaking the bank.

Then I stopped by the noodle stand and got Hancock and I a bowl to go. We hadn't eaten in a while, and I was sure that Hancock missed the noodle stand – everyone seemed to love it in Diamond City, even Hancock's neighborhood watchmen.

Once I got outside the gates with the noodles in hand, I saw Hancock being hustled by some of the city guards.

"No ghouls allowed, freak," one said to him.

"Hey, I ain't in the city," he said pointedly.

"Don't matter," said another guard. "Know what happens to super mutants and ferals outside the gates? They get fucked up. Bad."

Hancock narrowed his eyes. "You sayin' you're gonna fuck me up, tough guy? I'd like to see you try that."

"He's a funny guy," said the first guard. "I say we should take his funny hat and shove it up his funny ass."

"You keep your hands off me, bub, or it's your ass you're gonna have to worry about," he growled.

"Hey, knock it off!" I yelled to the guards.

They turned to my direction.

"We're just leaving," I explained.

"Ain't you that newcomer from the paper?" the first guard asked.

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Eh, I guess we'll let you off the hook this time, ghoul."

"This time, and every time," I hissed at him. "Now out of my way." I nudged Hancock with my shoulder and handed him his bowl of noodles. I took a seat on the sidewalk close to my power armor and started slurping down the steaming hot food.

He took a seat next to me as the guards walked back down the alley. "I had it."

"I know you did."

"Then why'd you have to go and interrupt like that?"

"They were pissing me off."

"Didn't think you'd be the type to stick up for a ghoul," he said.

I gave him a cold stare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're prewar, not used to rad freaks like me."

I just shook my head. Maybe one day, Hancock would learn that I wasn't an irrational, stuck-up bitch.

We ate our noodles in silence in the light of the security lights facing the gate. When Hancock was done, he tossed the bowl aside with the rest of the ever existing garbage. I did the same when I was done. No point in caring about the environment at this point.

"So," he said after wiping his mouth with the corner of his red sleeve, "seems you can hold your own. I had my doubts when we first started traveling together."

"Thanks," I chuckled. "You're not so bad yourself."

"I never get many complaints. It's just real rare these days, find someone who's not willing to just take whatever is handed to them. Too many good folks not willing to get their hands dirty and too many assholes taking advantage of it. Look at what happened to Diamond City." He motioned to the big green wall behind us. "Before McDonough took over, it was a half-decent place to live. A little stricter than I usually go for, but not terrible. I thought he and I had a pretty happy childhood. But then he decides he's gonna try and get elected with his anti-ghoul crusade – 'Mankind for McDonough.' Before you know it, you got families with kids lining up to drag folks they called 'neighbor' out of their homes and throw 'em to the ruins."

"Back up a second. You and McDonough knew each other as kids?"

"Oh, yeah. Guy's my brother. Grew up together in a little shack on the waterfront. Guy was the standard big brother – entitled, punchy, liked to shove rotten tatoes down my shirt and slap my back . . . but I never thought he'd be capable of something like what they did to those ghouls."

"How? How could they do something like that?"

"There'd always been a pretty big gulf between the folks living in the stands, and folks down in the field. McDonough ran on it because he thought enough of those Upper Stands assholes would vote for him. Guess he was right. I remember storming into his office above the stands after the inauguration speech. He was just standing there, staring out the window, watching as the city turned on the ghouls. He didn't even look at me, just said: 'I did it, John. It's finally mine.'"

I studied his face. He looked like it still physically pained him to talk about what happened back then.

"Should have killed him right there," he continued, "but I don't think it would have changed anything. Instead, I pleaded with him, begged him to call it off. He said he couldn't. He had nothing against the ghouls. He was just carrying out the will of the people. And he couldn't betray the voters. And then he smiled. That hideous fucking mile-long smile. He never smiled like that when we were kids. I didn't even recognize him."

"He murdered those ghouls . . ."

"Him and that whole damn city." He shook his head. "I still wasn't a ghoul at this point, so I didn't have to leave, but I couldn't bring myself to stay in that cesspool after that. I'd been sneakin' off to Goodneighbor for years to get decent chems, so I knew the safe routes. I managed to track down a couple of the families, lead 'em there, but most couldn't get used to the Goodneighbor lifestyle. I brought them food for a couple of weeks, but after a while, they just disappeared. Folks in Diamond City signed their death warrants and all the good people were willing to sit by and watch."

"I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"I felt like I was the only one who saw how screwed up things truly were, who couldn't just pretend things were fine. Still feel that way . . . or I did. Until I met you."

I flashed him a smile.

"I know I run my mouth, but having someone who sees the world for what it is and is willing to do something about it. It's meant a lot to me. I feel damn lucky to have you as a friend."

I blushed. "You're not going soft on me, are ya, Hancock?"

He shrugged. "Hey, everyone's entitled to some softness. For me, it's pretty much everything below the eyebrows. Well, thanks for hearing me out. You probably weren't looking for a history lesson, were ya? You wanna hit the road?"

I nodded. "Of course. Let's get going."

"If we make it out of these CIT ruins alive, I owe you a whole case of chems."

"I'll hold you to that." I stood up and dusted off my pants. I entered my power armor, and we made our way to the old CIT ruins.

* * *

It was still dark outside. The sun would start coming up in about an hour or two. I waited patiently for it; as long as I was in my power armor, I didn't care if it was day or night.

When we arrived, I saw that the CIT ruins was mostly intact. CIT stood for Commonwealth Institute of Technology. Anyone who wanted to make a difference in the world usually wound up being a techie or a scientist there. Six years of college, a lot of different honorary programs, and quite a bit of waiting around for an approval letter, and you were lucky enough to get in.

I checked my pip-boy radio for the courser frequency and tuned in. It showed me the signal percentage in the top left corner of the pip-boy screen. It was faintly beeping, too. I walked to the left, and the beeping slowed, and I began to lose signal. So, I went to the right, and the beeping would quicken it's pace, and the signal would get stronger.

Hancock followed me with his hands in his pockets. He didn't seem too awfully excited. "Lotta learnin' went into making this place . . ." he mumbled, examining the big building.

The signal led us around the right side of the CIT building and down the road a ways. We walked right through a raider camp built around some old office buildings. They weren't much trouble. One of them had a really nice gun, actually. It was a 'deadeye' combat shotgun. I took it for myself and shoved it in my bag with the rest of my junk.

The signal led us right to Greenetech Genetics. I turned the radio signal off at the door. I took a deep breath, popped my neck, cracked my knuckles, and gave Hancock a solemn look.

"You ready?" he asked, flipping a last-minute mentat into his mouth.

"Yeah."

* * *

The building was as filthy and tattered as the rest of the city. Bits of the walls had crumbled apart, broken ceiling tiles lay on the floor, the wallpaper had peeled off, garbage cans and their contents scattered around, and – of course – dead bodies were strewn around the room. Bleach-white bones of prewar bodies and bloodied Gunners who died not even an hour ago.

 _He's definitely here,_ I thought as I examined the Gunner's wounds.

I glanced over and Hancock was searching one's pockets. "Hancock, this is no time to be looting," I whispered.

"Yeah," he whispered back, "but if we make it out of here alive, I wanna at least have some caps on me."

I rolled my eyes.

We crouched down, drew our guns, and made our way through a hallway to the right and up the stairs. The old florescent lights were still barely working and struggling to stay lit, flickering over our heads. The stairs led in an upwards spiral until we came to the balcony floor overlooking the lobby.

"The courser's on the second floor," said a man's voice. "Kill on sight. Send reinforcements to the lobby in case there are anymore." I then realized it was a man on a loudspeaker somewhere. I was sure he wasn't talking to us; perhaps the other Gunners in the building.

As soon as we rounded the corner, we were bombarded with a hail of bullets. Enemy turrets fired at us repeatedly. There were at least four Gunners running toward us with guns and melee weapons at the ready. It was so loud, I could barely hear what the man said on the loudspeaker as he spoke again, giving his group new orders. I couldn't make it out, but I was ninety-five percent sure it had something to do with Hancock and I making our entrance.

My power armor allowed me to soak up most of the damage. So, I ran straight through them, knocking them over the railing and onto the first floor below. They landed with a thud, and a few with sickening snaps as their legs broke. To Hancock, it was like shooting fish in a barrel as he finished them off from below. He struggled to find cover from the turret, though.

I ran through the hallway ahead and took out two more Gunners and the turret that was shooting at Hancock with the new shotgun I found. Up the stairs, more were waiting for us. I shotgunned them in the face, sending Hancock into a fit of maniacal laughter.

"Barricade the stairways and the halls," we heard the man on the loudspeaker say, and the rest was cut off by another hail of gunfire. Lasers were being fired in our direction – this suit's weakness. I took cover behind a wall and looked through my bag for some frag grenades. I tossed them to Hancock and he gracefully pulled the pin and tossed them down the hall.

Up more stairs and more stairs still. It was like this building just kept going up. I was able to hack one of the terminals connecting to their turrets and shut them down, so it would be easier from then on out. It didn't change the fact that we were still a long way behind the courser, though, and a crowd of Gunners stood between me and that courser.

We crossed a bridge-like hall across the building, and I heard the bone-chilling hiss of a missile being launched right at us. I barely had time to make a run for it. We made it through the next doorway, right before the missile exploded behind us, and Hancock got the full force of it. It broke the bridge down and he hung halfway through the door.

"Hancock!" I jumped toward him and grabbed his hands, pulling him up with all my strength so he didn't fall three floors below.

"Agh! My fucking leg . . ."

I grabbed a stimpak and jabbed it into his leg below the knee.

"It's gonna take more than one, sister," he said, gasping through the pain. "I'm pretty sure my leg's broken."

"Damn it!" I applied another stimpak and a med-x before we heard gunshots firing at us again. I growled in frustration and jumped up to pull a desk toward us. I flipped the desk over on it's side and used it as extra cover so we weren't sitting in the open in the room. "Provide me some cover fire!" I yelled at him, and threw him my pistol.

He cocked it and aimed out the little window of the room.

"You know how to use that thing?"

He glared at me. "Did you really just ask that?" He turned back to the window and closed one eye, aiming expertly. He fired a shot, and I heard the sound of a Gunner's last breath as he cried in pain.

I yanked his boot off of his foot, and he cried out a mixture of pain and protest. I searched through my bag for some kind of cloth, and I found an old Minutemen shirt. I ripped it into a long strip, pulled his pants leg up, and wrapped it around Hancock's shin. I taped it up with a piece of duct tape. I moved as quickly as I could, so it wasn't my best work, but it would hold the bone mostly in place as the stimpak worked its magic.

Gunners were starting to come from the other side of the room now, and I ducked lower behind the desk. When they had to stop to reload, I shot off my combat shotgun and nailed one in the gut, but skimmed the other.

"Son of a bitch!" I yelled, infuriated with how many there were.

Once we finally cleared the area of the Gunners, Hancock slid his boot back on.

"You okay to keep going?" I asked.

"Yeah, thanks to you. Let's move."

"We've lost contact with sectors two and four," said the man again on the loudspeaker.

"Sounds like someone's on the losing end," Hancock snickered.

"Fall back, all positions. The courser's nearing the elevator."

Just then, nothing but chaos could be heard above us on the next floor. I rushed through every room ahead of us with as much swiftness as possible. I took out most of our opponents with just one shotgun shell, but some required two and a beating to the face with the butt of my gun. Hancock was putting my pistol and his knife to good use. Together, we cleared out another floor.

The man spoke again overhead, this time panicked. "The courser's after the girl. Anyone left alive needs to get up to the top floor immediately. That's an order!"

Finally making it to the main office, I hacked a few computers and turned off all their defense systems: spotlights, turrets, tripwires, you name it. Past the main office, another stairway, but collapsed. In the center, the elevator. On either side, two Gunners. I couldn't believe they were still trying to fight us after all we've already killed. Were that that stupid, or that scared?

The elevator took us up what felt like three more floors. The room ahead was eerily quiet. Inside was a caged security room in the center and a few computers around the edges of the room. We crept around the security room, and opened the door on the other side. Another flight of stairs . . .

To my left was a terminal and a locked door, so that meant more computer hacking. I was getting rather good at it.

"That's one way to do it," Hancock said as the door opened for us. "I always preferred kickin' 'em in."

I was ecstatic to find another fusion core inside the locked room. I needed it for my power armor, badly. I was at a measly ten percent. Hancock, on the other hand, was happy just to find mentats on the desk.

Up the stairs again . . .

Another room, much like the one below, with the cage in the center, except it was surrounded by metal railing, and you could see to the floor underneath us. There was a man, pleading with someone, almost crying inside.

"I don't know the password! I'm telling the truth!" It may have been one of the Gunners.

"I don't believe you are," said a more sophisticated voice. This voice was calm and collected, but superior in a way.

"Oh, God . . . please don't," said another man.

"You don't have to do this!" yelled the first.

A gunshot – a laser pistol – fired, and the man went silent.

"All he had to do was tell me the password," said the sophisticated one. "Now, are you going to cooperate?"

We crept into a room and up even more stairs.

"Oh God, Oh God . . ."

"Tell me."

"Okay, okay! Just don't shoot me! Let me think."

"I'm going to get in there, one way or another. Now tell me the password."

"I already told you, I don't have it. I'll help you find a way in, but listen, we took the girl fair and square. All we want is a little compensation in return."

"You are in no position to negotiate."

We poked our heads up from the stairs once we reached the next floor, and the man in charge saw us without skipping a beat.

 _How? We were completely silent and almost completely hidden by the stairs!_

"You. Come here," he motioned to us. He had black hair and side burns, his lengthy hair in a small ponytail. He had on a sleek black coat, similar to a trench coat, black gloves, black boots, and an Institute rifle in his hands. "You've been following me. Are you here for the synth?"

I stood up and approached him. At first, I didn't know what to say. Then, I remembered what Mama Murphy said. The reset code. I wondered if it would work on this courser.

"Er . . . Z2-47, initialize factory reset. Authorization code . . . Zeta- . . . 5-3- . . . Kilo?"

"How . . . did you . . ." he started to ask, but he immediately started slowing down.

 _Oh, my God, I remembered it._

The courser tried to back away from me, but he slumped over instead and hit the ground.

"How the hell did you know to say that?" asked Hancock.

"A friend," I replied. I exited my power armor for more mobility.

He sighed. "Not the fight I was expecting. If anyone asks, there was ten of 'em, and we were outta bullets, and we fought 'em off with our bare hands."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Let's just get this chip out of his head."

"Want me to do the honors?" he asked, shining his knife in the light.

"Be my guest."

He sliced open the back of the courser's neck and dug his fingers into the back of his head until he found a piece of hard plastic. The courser bled, just like any other human being. It was confusing. Hancock wiped the chip off with the bottom edge of his coat and handed it to me.

I examined it closely. There was nothing special about it. I was expecting something, I don't know, more complicated. It looked like any old piece of plastic to me.

"Help me!" yelled a girl from across the room. She was in another room, behind a barred window in the wall and a locked door. "Don't just stand there!"

I raised an eyebrow at her, and the Gunner sitting on the floor. I decided to approach him first, because the information I gathered was that these Gunners kidnapped this girl and held her captive for the courser to find, and they expected payment from the courser. The courser had no such thing in mind . . .

"Get away from me," he said as we got closer.

"No need to be an asshole . . . I just wanted to know – "

He spit on me. He fucking _spit_ on me.

"I ain't tellin' you shit."

Before I could ram my fist into the Gunner's jaw, Hancock grabbed the Gunner by the throat in one swift movement, lifted him up, and slammed him against the wall. "That ain't how you treat a lady, friend," he hissed through gritted teeth. "I would teach you some manners, but where you're goin', you won't need 'em." He lifted my pistol up to the Gunner's temple and blew his brains out the other side. His body slumped to the floor.

I wiped the spit from my face. I felt like Hancock was more upset about it than I was.

"You alright?" he asked.

"It was just spit."

He took a deep breath to steady himself. "I know, I know. He just pissed me off. And to think I was gonna let that one live."

I walked over to the girl behind the barred window. "Are you alright?"

"He . . . he deserved to die." She looked at the newest addition to this building's collection of dead bodies and trembled. "Look, I know you're not here for me, but . . . I can't get out. Not on my own. I'm going to have to trust you to help me."

"Relax, lady. It's gonna be fine."

"I guess I don't really have a choice, do I?" The poor girl was shaking. "The password should be in that red toolbox over there." She pointed across the room.

Hancock took the liberty of searching through it and pulling out a small piece of paper. He handed it to me and I used it on the terminal next to the door to her cell. I noticed the elevator was off, so I turned that on while I was at it.

"Thank you. I don't know what to say." There were tears in her eyes now.

"Who are you?"

"My . . . Institute designation is K1-98. But I prefer Jenny. So, yes, I'm a synth. If you hadn't already guessed. I knew they'd send a courser. I just didn't think he'd find me so fast. I think I would have lost him, too. But then I was captured by these . . . mercenaries. And all this happened. Thanks again for your help. I'm going to look for supplies before I head out. And before you ask, no, I don't need anymore help."

"Wasn't gonna ask."

"The Commonwealth is unforgiving. I need to learn to make it on my own, or I'm dead."

I shook my head. "That couldn't be more true. Just keep trying. You'll make it. I know I did."

"Maybe we'll meet again, under better circumstances." She smiled. "I . . . hope we do."

"Take care out there," said Hancock.

* * *

The elevator was just going to take us back to the first floor, so we decided to unlock the door at the top of the stairway in the center of the room and exit through there, just to see what there was to see. Who knows, could have been loot. It was raining outside, but it was at least daylight. At the top of this building, we had a perfect view of the Commonwealth in all it's devastation. Somehow, though, it was still beautiful.

"Well, now, ain't this a rare treat," Hancock said with his hands on his hips and smiling out at the view.

The wind whipped at my face and chilled me to the bone.

Hancock lit a cigarette and sat down on the ledge. "Seriously, though? Was that the best the Institute's got? I ain't impressed. Now, what do you say we get that courser chip decoded, huh?"

"Yeah, we'll head out in a bit. I don't want 'Jenny' to feel like we're hovering. Besides, I kind of like the view."

He turned and raised an eyebrow at me. "What part of the view?"

"Don't make me push you off that ledge."

He chuckled. "Ya know, I feel like we've been seein' eye to eye. Makes me ask the question: you ready to learn about chems?"

"And miss out on all this view due to being stoned out of my mind? No thank you."

"It's not gonna dull your senses, Nora. It's gonna _enhance_ them. Trust me." He put his cigarette out by flicking it off the ledge. "Here, I'll do it with ya."

I huffed and sat down next to him. "Okay, what am I doing?" I asked with no enthusiasm.

"We're gonna start you off with something nice and easy, but something that's gonna make this view look ten times better." He went through his pockets until he found an inhaler. "Jet." He pressed the inhaler's button down and breathed in deeply. His speech came a little quicker than before.

At first, I didn't want to chance it. But I reminded myself that I trusted him, so what was there to be afraid of? I took the inhaler from him, and, without fear, breathed in my own hit of jet. Everything became brighter and at least three times slower than what it was before. I looked out at the view, and everything looked so serene. I could almost see the prismatic colors of the rainbow in the rays of sunlight peeking through the parting clouds. Each drop of rain came slow in front of my face and clear as crystal.

"Who-o-oa-a-a," I said. My speech was slow and made my voice sound deeper than usual. Then I giggled. It almost sounded like a man's giggle, and it made me laugh more.

Hancock laughed with me. "You're gettin' it, now," he said in his own low, slow-paced voice.

I enjoyed the view for a few more seconds before it started to wear off. It didn't last as long as I thought it would.

"How was that for a first time?" he asked.

"Yeah . . . that wasn't so bad."

"Remember, you control the chems. The chems don't control you, ya feel me?"

"I feel you."

He chuckled.

I shivered in the rain. As I was about to get up and get back into my power armor, Hancock draped his coat over my shoulders. I faced him with surprise. My expression must have been a sight, because he laughed at me. I looked back out at the view, knowing my face was getting red now. I looked back at him with the intention of saying something, but stopped short.

He gazed at me through glassy, black eyes.

I gave him a little smile. "Thanks."

"No problem, sister."

Without permission, and without warning, I scooted closer to him so I could lean my head on his shoulder. He was incredibly warm.

His whole body stiffened up as I softly leaned on him. After a moment or two, he relaxed. And he put his arm around me. And he laid his head on mine.

 _What am I doing? He's a ghoul. And yet . . ._

I had seen Hancock be ruthless, be an asshole, be kind to those in need, and be passionate about his beliefs. For the first time, I was seeing him be sweet, and it melted my heart.

"Merry Christmas, Nora."


	20. Ch 20: The New Underground Railroad

**Chapter 20**

 **The New Underground Railroad**

* * *

"Smell that Goodneighbor air," said Hancock, taking a deep breath through the hole in his face and breathing out through his mouth. "Home sweet home. I'm gonna check on Fahrenheit. I'll meet you in the Rail."

Hancock entered the State House as I walked below and entered the bar. The bouncer, Ham, nodded at me as I entered, but didn't look too friendly. Not that he ever did, but even less than usual today.

"Any friend of Mayor Hancock . . . is a friend of the Third Rail," he said without emotion.

Magnolia was singing a holiday tune and Charlie was shining glasses. There were a few patrons scattered around, talking and drinking and nodding their heads to the jive on the stage.

I took a seat at the bar.

"Gov. You're becoming quite the regular."

I heard a patron doing a horrible job at whispering at a table behind me to a ghoul lady sitting next to him. "So, you think now that Hancock's stepped out, there'll be someone to take his place?"

"You think it'll be Fahrenheit?" asked the ghoul lady.

"Nah, I was thinkin' I might run for it."

"Ha ha ha ha! Oh, oh that's a good one. You, you're funny. I needed a laugh."

"Oh, oh yeah. Heh. Gotcha . . . asshole . . ."

I waited around for a while. About fifteen minutes passed me by, and I decided to get a drink. "Hey, Charlie, whatcha got on offer?"

"Well, the beer still tastes the same. Like shit. We got top-shelf rum, and a decent vodka and whiskey."

"Lemme get a shot of whiskey to warm up."

"That'll be eight caps, gov."

"What? Eight caps? The whole bottle's worth twelve caps. At least, that's what it was last time I was here . . ."

"Well, let's just say supplies are short and demand is high. Now, you buyin' or wot?"

Before I started to lose my temper, a hand came down on the bar, slamming caps on its surface. "No need for that, Chuck. Lighten up."

"Of course, Mayor 'ancock. My apologies. I didn't know she came with such important company . . ."

"A friend of mine is a friend of the Rail, remember? Lay off."

Charlie sighed. "Drinks on the house, then." He poured two shots of whiskey and slid them to me and Hancock.

I flouted the robot and took my shot of whiskey.

"Sorry about that," said Hancock, gathering his caps up. "Everyone's just a bit on edge after me leaving. They always get like that."

"Yeah? Well, they can lay off treating me like a wanted criminal."

"They blame you for taking me away from Goodneighbor. What they don't understand is I made the decision to leave to find myself. 'Sides, you're a good sort. I'm glad I took up with ya." He gulped down his shot of whiskey. "Ready to get to the Memory Den?"

"Yeah, let's go."

The Memory Den was right down the road. Irma was lounging in her usual love seat in the middle of the room, and Dr. Amari was at the back, typing away on a computer terminal.

"Oh, you're back!" She dropped what she was doing when she saw me. "The Glowing Sea. Virgil. Tell me what happened."

"I found Virgil. He has a way inside the Institute, but I need a code from a courser chip."

"Unfortunately, I can't help you. I've worked on many synths, but never a courser. I don't know what that chip does, let alone how to decode it. But there are people who might . . . I work with a group that, well, they're the only ones I know that even have a chance at cracking Institute security. They're called the Railroad."

I couldn't hold back a laugh. "Next stop: the Railroad. Choo choo!"

I could hear Hancock cracking up behind me.

"Uh . . . Yes . . . Anyway . . . You need a code phrase in order to find them. 'Follow the Freedom Trail.' Good luck."

"That's all you have for me?"

"I'm afraid so. The Railroad is understandably paranoid. They're fighting the Institute, after all. You'll have to figure this out as you go." From her pocket, she handed me a holotape. "This may or may not help you along the way."

I looked at the tape. It was titled "Join the Railroad."

I walked over to one of the red sofas in the front of the room, sat down, and put the tape in my pip-boy's tape player. Hancock took a seat beside me.

It was a woman's voice. She had a serious tone, like someone who could really take charge. _"Wake up, Commonwealth. Synths are not your enemy. They're victims in this war, as well. True, they were created by the Institute. But they were created as slaves. Thinking, feeling, and dreaming beings utterly oppressed by their tyrannical masters. So join with us in fighting the real enemy: the Institute. Join the Railroad. When you're ready for that next step, don't worry, we'll find you."_ The tape ended.

"Kinda cryptic, don't you think?" said Hancock, scratching his chin.

"'Follow the Freedom Trail' . . . where have I heard that before?" I was wracking my brain; I knew I had heard it in the past.

 _The Freedom Trail . . ._

 _The Freedom Trail . ._ .

On our way out of the Memory Den, Hancock stopped by Hotel Rexford to talk to a chem dealer there. I made my way to Daisy's shop to sell some loot I had found in the old building we found the courser in.

"Hey, Daisy," I greeted the cheerful ghoul behind the counter.

"Hello, darlin'. Enjoying yourself in Goodneighbor?"

"I guess you could say that." I took out some things from my bag and laid them on the counter. "You feel like buying today?"

"Of course. What do you have?"

"A bit of this and a bit of that. Hey . . . what's it like? Being a . . . ghoul?" I had never had the courage to ask Hancock myself, and Daisy seemed to be an open-minded gal.

She chuckled. "Well, it's a lot harder when people ask you about it all the time, but I guess I can't blame them. On the upside, I look pretty good. For being over 220 years old."

I perked up. "Wait. You're 220 years old?"

"Okay, okay, more like 270 years, but don't go blabbing that to everyone. Being a ghoul means you live a long time. You stop counting birthdays. Do you know what it's like being that old?"

I sighed. "Actually, I do."

She laughed. "Well, now you're just making fun of me. If you were as old as I was, you would've been around before the war. So let's hear it. Come on. Tell me what the world was like before the war, if you're so ancient."

I thought about it for a minute. My answer as to what the world was like before the war had changed in the time I had been out of the vault. At first, I would have said that the world was more beautiful, more peaceful. Neighborly. Where nothing drastic happened, like survival of the fittest, murder, monsters, and chem addiction. Now . . . now I feel like it hasn't changed all that much.

"It was pretty much what we have now," I finally answered, "just with less rust."

She chuckled. "Yeah, that's true, ain't it? Well, you're either the most well-preserved ghoul I've ever seen, or you're the second best bullshitter in Goodneighbor."

"Well, it's the truth. All of it."

"You know, if you haven't already, you should check out Hotel Rexford. There's another prewar ghoul hanging around there. Well, we should get back to business." She counted out my caps and took the junk I left her off of the counter top. We exchanged a goodbye wave and I left the little shop behind.

I met Hancock inside Hotel Rexford and let him know I was going to look for someone. I was curious as to who this prewar ghoul was. Maybe it was someone from my neighborhood, or someone I used to see in town. I asked the lady at the desk where he was staying, and she told me the top floor.

I walked up the winding stairs and looked through the halls. I didn't know which room he or she was staying in, so I knocked on each door until someone answered.

Then, my heart dropped.

"You!" said the raspy voice . . . of the Vault-Tec rep from the day of the bombs.

"You?"

"What? No . . . it can't . . . It – It's you! From Sanctuary Hills, right?!"

"Wait. Aren't you from Vault-Tec?"

"I AM Vault-Tec! Twenty years of loyal service, and now look at me. I wasn't on the list. But you. Look at you." His voice became angered, with a hint of jealousy. "Two-hundred years, and you're still perfect! How? How's that possible?"

"You . . . don't know? They didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what? What is it? How did you get through the last 200 years untouched?"

"The vault had these pods that froze us in place. Cryostasis. I only thawed out recently."

"What? Vault-Tec never told me that. Unbelievable! Well, I had to get to the future the hard way. Living through the . . . filth! The . . . decay! And the bloodshed! Look at me! I'm a ghoul! A freak!"

I pointed a finger in his face. "Don't you patronize me! You don't know what I have endured to get here! The things I've lost. And for the record, you were pretty ugly before."

Instead of arguing with me, a spark of realization entered his eyes. "You know, you're the only person I met from . . . before. I, uh . . . I . . . Oh, God. I've been so alone here! No Commonwealth settlement wants a ghoul with 200 years of Vault-Tec sales experience!"

I sighed. "Goodneighbor isn't so bad."

"Are you kidding? Have you looked around?"

"Well . . . you know, you could head back to Sanctuary."

"And, what, be alone there, too? Talk to that dumbass robot of yours that won't do anything but trim the dead bushes?"

"We have a settlement there, now. We've been rebuilding."

"Really? . . . Would I . . . see you there?"

I was taken aback. "Sure. I'll come visit."

"You promise?"

"Uh, I guess."

"You really would? Okay! I – I'll head over there right now! I'll see you there sometime!"

He went back into his room to pack. It was strange to see him again. He almost still sounded like himself, but he had that familiar gravel in his voice that all ghouls tend to get. I couldn't blame him for being so bitter. I saw him stand at the gates, trying to fight his way into the vault. While he was turned away, my family and I were allowed inside. And while I didn't necessarily have an affinity with him, he left with a smile.

When I turned around, Hancock was standing with his arms crossed at the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall.

"Oh, hey. How much of that did you hear?"

"I heard enough. You holdin' up?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"How could you seriously invite the guy to stay with you all in Sanctuary? The guy that got you to sign those papers and sent you to that ice box?"

"It's not like he knew what Vault-Tec was doing. I'd like to think that I'm helping people that need it."

He started to open his mouth to protest, then stopped. He uncrossed his arms and placed his hands in his pockets. "You know, you're right," he smiled.

* * *

 _The Freedom Trail . . ._

I couldn't stand not being able to remember where I'd heard that before.

Hancock stopped and pointed to the ground right outside of Goodneighbor's walls. "Hey, look! 'Boston: The Freedom Trail.'"

"What?!"

And there it was. A marker made of a large, round copper piece, almost as big as a manhole cover. On it was written in red paint "6 – O." Underneath it was a red line made of thin pieces of red brick. A trail. It went all the way down the sidewalk. I lost track of it underneath some of the debris by the buildings and would have to look around to pick it back up again.

"You're a genius, Hancock."

"No, I just have eyes."

We followed this trail through the debris and the wreckage of the city ruins. We climbed over an old bus and jumped down on the other side to find another marker in front of the Old Corner Bookstore. This time, it was marked with a red "3 – I."

The trail continued to the right, up some stairs, then down more stairs, and right into a super mutant encampment. We fought our way through, and found the next marker on the ground in front of Faneuil Hall. "5 – R."

It wasn't until we had cleared out the super mutants until I realized just how tired I was. I should have rested before we headed back out again. The trail wrapped around the building and we nearly lost it under all the debris on the sidewalk. It was completely covered. Then the trail picked up across the road and continued on the sidewalk to the right.

Another marker right before we got to Pickman Gallery. "8 – D." It picked up again at the Old North Church. "1 – R." The trail ended.

That's when I remembered where I had heard of the Freedom Trail before. It was a tourist attraction for people to view all the national landmarks and old buildings in town. A lot of people walked the Freedom Trail and took pictures with their families. I had tried to get Nate to go with me once.

"Trail ends here," said Hancock. "Let's see what we can find."

The church was nearly dilapidated. A hole in the wall allowed us to walk through to the other room with ease.

"Old girl's seen better days," said Hancock as we walked over broken boards and molded wood.

As soon as I stepped on a creaky board, feral ghouls rose up from the floor. I used my modified Institute rifle for this one. I took out their legs pretty easily with the fiery rifle, and smashed their heads in as they lay helpless on the ground. At the back of the church's main room was a dark hall that led to the right.

I turned on the light on my pip-boy so we could see where we were going. The door at the top of the stairs led to the church steeple. There wasn't much there, so we went back down to the main room and searched again. I found a passage underneath a fallen balcony in the far corner of the room, so we crept through.

It led into a basement of sorts with winding hallways. I could only assume that this was part of the original Underground Railroad during the Civil War.

"Somethin' ain't right about this place," Hancock muttered.

"It's old. It was used to free slaves back in the Civil War. Pastors would bring slaves from the outside and hide them underneath the church. This passageway should lead out somewhere else, where the slave would be safe to flee."

"A noble cause."

"No wonder the Railroad of today is using it. It worked back then. It should work to free synths."

Finally, we came to a wall on the right that had the same marker on it as the ones on the Freedom Trail. It looked like the ring around the center that held the letters "Boston: The Freedom Trail" could move around in a circle. A red arrow was painted on it in the top center to point to the letters.

"I know where this is going," I said, already turning the letters in their order. I had to put in the right password. All the letters and numbers we had found so far shared one word in common. "Railroad."

After every correct letter, I'd hear a click inside the wall, like a lock unlatching itself. After all eight letters were put in, the wall to the left of the marker opened up.

"Nice." Hancock flipped a mentat into his mouth.

A dark room awaited us again. Even the light on my pip-boy wasn't helping much. As we stepped inside, a bright light came on and shined directly in our faces, blinding us.

"Ah, shit!"

"What the hell?"

We tried to shield our eyes, but it was like the light was coming from everywhere. Once our eyes finally adjusted, we saw three people standing in front of us a few feet away. A woman with white hair and tan skin to the left, holding a minigun. A woman in the center with pale skin and red hair, a cigarette between her fingers. A young man with a cap and conductor's jumpsuit on, holding a pistol in his hands. Everyone was targeted on us.

"Hold it right there," said the red-haired woman. "You went through a lot of trouble to arrange this meeting. But before we go any further, answer my questions. Who the hell are you?"

This was not what I was expecting. I'm being interrogated just on arrival? Were these truly the people that were supposed to help me? "Why don't you explain to me who _you_ are first?"

"In a world full of treachery, suspicion, and hunters – we're the synths' only friends. We're the Railroad. So answer _my_ question."

"I followed the Freedom Trail looking for the Railroad. I'm not your enemy."

"If that's true . . . you have nothing to fear. Who told you how to contact us?"

"A woman named Doctor Amari told me how to find you. You should know her."

"Very interesting. Last question. Why are you here?"

"Do you want the full sob story or just the immediate reason?"

"I don't honestly give a damn."

"I found a courser chip. Can you decode it?"

Her eyebrows raised. "You have . . . what? This is not a joking matter."

A man in a white T-shirt, jeans, white tennis shoes, and shades entered the room from behind the red-haired woman. He had pale skin and black hair, and a hint of a Californian accent.

"Hey, I didn't know we were having a party," he said. "What gives with my invitation?" He looked me up and down. "Oh. I see you invited the courser-killer. Nice."

"Deacon, you're late," stated the woman with annoyance. "You're saying this intruder actually killed a courser? Single-handedly? That'd give even Glory a run for her money."

I addressed the man, Deacon. "Do I know you?"

"No, but I know you." He grinned and looked back at the woman. "News flash, boss. This lady is kind of a big deal."

Hancock and I eyed each other, both at a loss, and shrugged.

"If you're done interrogating her, you might wanna show this courser-murdering machine a little courtesy. Just a thought."

The woman looked back at me, more impressed than hostile now. "I owe you an apology. Anyone who kills a courser is good in my book."

 _They must think I had an all out war with this courser._

"I'm Desdemona, and I'm the leader of the Railroad."

"Nora Isham. Commonwealth Minutemen General. Hopefully we can work something out."

"Well, what you're asking for puts us in a tricky position," she admitted.

Deacon spoke up. "Dez, we totally need to let her in. She's got an intact courser chip for God's sake."

"That violates our security protocols."

"To hell with that. She killed a courser. There's no way she's working for the Institute."

Desdemona sighed in defeat. "We're letting you into our headquarters," she told me. "You're the first outsider ever to be given this privilege. We'll discuss the details inside."

The other two beside her lowered their guns and flipped the bright spotlights off. Hancock and I blinked in relief and rubbed our eyes. We followed Desdemona up a small set of stairs and into the back room. Hancock absently rested his hand on his gun. He clearly didn't trust people that greeted newcomers this way.

"Don't try anything, stranger," said the young man as we passed him. He gave Hancock a look of judgment.

Hancock received this judgment the way he always did: passively. I admired the way he could let things like that roll off his back.

It was a circular room made of brick, like the rest of the basement. There were a few other people inside, sitting at terminals or working on papers. There were machinery, circuitry, tech, and other gadgets laying around that I had no clue as to what they were for. There were bedrolls on the floor against the walls. There was a shelf that held medical supplies and first aid.

"Decoding the chip is a very delicate operation," said Desdemona. "A million things could go wrong – the least of which is losing the data. Fortunately, we have the right man for the job."

She stopped in front of a tall brown-skinned man who wore blue overalls and a dirty T-shirt. There was a weird gadget on his head with various nick-knacks attached to it, like a pencil, a magnifying glass, a

"Hey, Dez. You need somethin'?" He had a chipper, laid-back voice.

"Tom. Our visitor here has a courser chip."

"Whoa! For real? Oh, man, it's been ages!"

"Right. Some ground rules. Tom can get you the code, but once he's done, we get the courser chip."

"Bullshit," said Hancock.

I put a hand on his shoulder. "Easy . . . Why do you need the chip?"

"Institute tech is lightyears beyond what we have. And a courser chip is the top of the line. I'm not going to get into the details. But that chip could save lives. Maybe even throw a wrench in some of the Institute's operations. So . . . hand over the chip."

I need the chip to get into the Institute through the Relay, but I couldn't do anything with it just by itself. I needed it decoded and they were the only ones that were able to do that. Either way, I felt like I was losing something here.

"I don't know . . . I might need that chip later."

"This isn't a negotiation. This is a demand. To anybody else in the Commonwealth, all you have is two caps worth of salvage. With us that data is priceless. But we're not just going to give that away."

"Well, I guess you're not leaving me much of a choice." I handed it over.

Hancock sighed in frustration.

"All right. Tom, make it happen." She handed it to him.

Tom looked insanely happy just to be holding it. "All right, little courser chip, let's have the circuit analyzer take a crack at you."

We took a seat in some aluminum chairs a few feet away from Tom's desk. Hancock looked extremely uncomfortable. He put his elbows on his knees and leaned over in the chair, looking around the room.

Tom put the chip into some kind of gadget sitting on his desk that was hooked up to a rounded terminal. An encryption flashed across the screen. None of it made sense to me, but Tom studied it carefully.

"We're in. Chip accessed," he cheered. "Just gotta poke the analog connectors a little." He typed away on the computer. "What? Oh, no, man, don't crash, don't crash. Hold it together."

"Memory hiccup," Deacon said with little worry.

"Here it comes," Tom whispered. "Encryption algorithms. All right. We're still running. Oh, man. They've added more decimals to the last cipher. This is gonna be . . . C'mon, baby, show me that pattern. Where is it? . . . Wait. They're using the same logarithmic function as the key generator. Oh, man, we got lucky."

I looked at Deacon, who stood with his arms crossed and leaning his back against the wall by the computer desk. He just smiled. I couldn't tell if he was looking at me; his sunglasses were too dark.

"I got you, you Institute bastard. I got you. Solve for N. Come on, show me that sweet base number. And we got it! We got the code! Ha ha ha! Let me load that onto a holotape for ya."

I breathed a little easier now that it was done.

"Good work, Tom" said Desdemona.

"Not sure our luck will hold up next time, Dez," Tom said with a smile.

"Start working on the rest of the chip. And you. I'd love to work with you more. Nora, right? Let me know if you're interested. But to be crystal clear, if you use that data and discover anything involving the Institute, you share it with us first. Otherwise, our relationship will be in jeopardy."

Hancock and I stood up. He glared at Desdemona through narrowed, black eyes and stood close by me.

"What kind of work would we be doing together?"

"If we're going to be dealing with each other more often, I need to know that we're on the same page. You know what a synth is, right?"

"Yeah. I know all about them."

"Good. The Institute treats synths as their property. As tools. So we seek to free synths from their bondage. Give them a chance at a real life. I have a question. The only question that matters. Would you risk your life for your fellow man? Even if that man is a synth?"

I thought of Nick when she asked me this. I'd risk my life for him. I _have_ risked my life for him, even if it was for personal reasons. I'd risk my life for Preston, MacCready, Hancock, even Piper and Nat. . .

"I risk my life for people every day," I answered. "Makes no difference to me if it's a human or a synth."

Hancock smiled at me. An expression of adoration.

"Well said." Desdemona lit a cigarette and offered us one. Hancock and I politely declined. "Someone with your skills, your beliefs, normally we'd try and recruit you. But right now, we don't have the time to train a up a new agent. There are, however, other valuable ways you can contribute. And in turn, we can help you. See Deacon for details. You're free to go."

"I'll think on it. Right now, I . . . have a lot of things I already need to do. But your cause seems just. I'll get back to you."

She nodded. "Take your time. And remember what I said about that chip. We'll know if you held out on us."


	21. Ch 21: Suspense

**Chapter 21**

 **Suspense**

* * *

Deacon walked us out.

"Hope you didn't mind the reception. When you tango with the Institute, you gotta be careful when someone new gets on the dance floor."

I shrugged. "What's done is done."

"We ain't the type that needs coddling," said Hancock.

"A healthy attitude. But it's all good now. I vouched for you. Nobody got shot. Still, I would consider it a close personal favor if you didn't sell us out to the Institute. Thanks."

"So, tell me. Why _did_ you vouch for me?"

"In our little outfit, it's my job to know things. And with everything you've done, it's pretty clear you're capable. A dangerous enemy. And, I'm betting, a valuable ally."

My eyes narrowed as we walked through the long hall and back into the main church. "So why the trust? You can't just be taking it all on faith."

"I don't know if we can trust you, but I hope we can. We just survived a hell of a crisis. So we may just be a teeny, weeny bit desperate for new members. If everything was sunshine and bottlecaps, we'd probably play a longer 'getting to know you' game. But we don't have that luxury."

"Really? Is that all? I recall you saying you 'know me,' though we've never met before."

"You just don't give up," he smirked.

"I'm tellin' ya," Hancock chuckled.

"All right, I have a short list of people I think would be a good fit for our family. You piqued my interest, so maybe I asked around. Did my homework. If you hadn't found us, there's a chance I would have found you instead. Thanks for saving me the trip."

"Well, consider this our official meeting." We entered the main church room and took a seat on some old pews. I held out my hand to him. "Nora."

"Deacon," he said, taking my hand and shaking it.

"John Hancock." Hancock extended his hand to Deacon as well. Instead of Deacon shying away from it like I've seen so many others do, Deacon took his hand in a hearty handshake.

"I've heard all about you, Mayor Hancock."

"Not all good things, I hope."

"Oh, no, don't you worry about that." Deacon turned to me. "So, Dez wants me to make you a 'tourist.' That's what we call someone who helps out with the odd job here and there. What a waste . . . I'm just going to come out and say this: the Railroad needs you."

"You sure about that? Desdemona didn't seem to care."

"She's just thinking of the time and manpower it would take to train you. And if you were some hick from the 'burbs that didn't know your ass from a rocket launcher, she'd be right. But I'm betting someone like you just needs a few pointers and a target."

"I'm not sure. I've got a lot on my plate already."

"I'll tell you the game plan, then you decide. I got a job. Too big for me. Just perfect for the two of us. You help me out, we turn a few heads, and Dez invites you into the fold. Then if you get into a bind and need some help, your buddies in the Railroad got your back."

"What's the job?"

"So, up front, the only thing I'll say is that it's going to be a wild and dangerous ride. But probably nothing new for someone like you."

I sighed. I looked over at Hancock who lounged on the pew next to Deacon.

He shrugged. "Hey, it's your job offer. Your call. I will say this, though: it'll be nice to have the Railroad at our backs if you have to take on the Institute."

"You're right. The Minutemen are still young and wouldn't be up for the task. I guess I'll take the job . . ."

"Perfecto. Let's meet up at the old freeway outside of Lexington. I'll fill you in once you get there."

"How about I just meet up with you here once I'm done with this? It's really important that I do this first. It's about finding my son . . ."

He nodded. "I understand. Take all the time you need to. But try not to wait too long. I'm not sure what could happen between now and then."

* * *

"Fanciest crypt in Boston. Little glue, some duct tape, think we could fix this right up," Hancock said as we left the old church building.

"Oh, yeah. Totally. It'd look brand spanking new."

"All joking aside, though, I think you're making the right choice here."

"You didn't seem to trust them," I pointed out.

"Yeah, I still don't know if I trust 'em. But they're the best chance we got if we're starting a war with the Institute."

"A war . . . I never thought about it like that."

"Believe it, sister. You're the spearhead of the good guys' team. And I'm just itching for a good fight. So, where are we off to next?"

"To the closest place with a bed. I'm exhausted. Tomorrow, I need to pick up my armor from your State House room and head back to the Glowing Sea."

We returned to Goodneighbor, because it was the closest place with a hotel. As we entered the gates, I took my caps out of my bag and counted them out. I only had 67 left. I was pretty bummed out to find that I was almost broke. I needed to make some caps, but I simply didn't have the time.

"Hey, you alright?" Hancock asked as we passed up the State House.

"Yeah, I just need to make some caps soon."

"Don't even worry about staying at Hotel Rexford. You can crash at my place. Save your caps."

"Really?"

"Yeah, sure. I got a couch with your name on it."

"Wouldn't that look . . . scandalous, though?"

He laughed. "Wouldn't be the first girl I've brought to the State House. Besides, anybody who knows you would also know that you're not that type of woman. Since when do you have time to care about what other people think, anyway?"

I shrugged. He had a point.

Fahrenheit was already upstairs and sitting on the couch with a beer in hand when we walked up the spiral staircase. "Back already?" she asked.

"Yeah. Turns out our destination wasn't as far as we thought it was."

I had a seat on the little black couch on the far side of the room, to the right of the double doors leading into Hancock's office. The couch was small, but had just the right amount of room for me to curl up. I felt like I was going to pass out as soon as I sat down. I allowed myself to fall asleep, listening to Hancock and Fahrenheit talk about petitions and strategy and chems.

Sleeping felt so good. So serene. I didn't have any dreams – at least not that I could remember. I felt like I was asleep for damn near forever.

When I woke up, I had drool on my arm and my cheek. My hair was a horrible mess. I looked around the room, and fresh sunlight was spilling through the windows. I was the only one inside the room. I got up, gathered my things, straightened my hair, and started searching for Hancock.

I heard his voice across the State House, past the staircase and by the door that led to the balcony where he normally addressed the town. He sounded serious. Fahrenheit's voice joined the mix, and I became too curious for my own good.

I leaned my ear against the crack of the door to hear what they were saying without the neighborhood watch guards seeing me and ratting me out.

" - can't seriously be thinking of going back out there. It's a miracle you came back the first time."

"Not just gonna let her wander around by herself."

"She. Is. Insane. How many times do I have to tell you that? She obviously has a death wish."

"You don't know her. Why are you givin' her so much heat?"

"Do _you_ know her?"

"Yeah. I do."

"No, no, you only think you do. You've walked around with her for, what, three or four days? And you suddenly think you know her. What has gotten into you, Hancock? All this trouble over some woman."

"She's not just some woman, Fahrenheit. I'm tellin' ya, she's the one that's gonna bring the Commonwealth back from the brink and set shit straight. She's gonna fight the Institute."

"Whatever you say. I just don't understand how any of that stuff has anything to do with you."

There was silence. "I don't know," he finally answered. "I just feel like I need to help her."

"And what am I supposed to do? Babysit?"

"Listen, I'll pay you double caps if you just stop riding me about this."

She scoffed. I could hear the tension in the air between them. "Alright. Fine. But if you wind up dead, I won't have to say 'I told you so.'"

I could hear Hancock's footsteps getting closer to the room, so I jumped away from the door. I sat on the couch and pretended to look through my bag for something.

He opened the doors and poked his head in on me. "Morning, sunshine. Ready to get this freak show on the road?"

I faked a smile. "Yeah. Let's do it."

"Done." He grabbed a bag from the coffee table and slung it over his shoulder.

"Mind if we stop by Sanctuary before we go to the Glowing Sea?"

"What's in Sanctuary?"

"Better power armor, hopefully."

* * *

The trip was pretty easy. It was a beautiful, sunny day, not a lot of hostiles along the roads. Bloodbugs and bloatflies were the main pests, but easily remedied. My shoddy raider's power armor clanked noisily the whole way. I was excited to see what Sturges had finished on my other set.

The gates at the bridge were opened up for us, and I walked in with a lighter heart. I always felt a little better to be home.

"Nice setup you got goin' on here," he said, taking in all that we had built.

"Thanks. It's definitely a work in progress."

The Vault-Tec rep was sitting next to a small campfire down the hill, about ten feet away from the field, watching the others work. I walked over to him. "You! You actually came to visit! I . . . I didn't think you would."

"Hey, now that you're back here in Sanctuary, would you like a job? It beats sitting over here by your lonesome."

"A job? F-for me? Really?"

"Yeah, I think your . . . sales experience . . . can be a great asset."

"You do? Well, that's . . . that's great! I won't let you down!"

I showed him where he could set up shop as a general store salesperson. We had market stands surrounding the great big tree at the end of Sanctuary Drive. He was ecstatic.

"I'm . . . sorry. About the vault. They didn't tell me much. Vault-Tec, I mean. Just to make sure that everyone filled out their forms. I was supposed to win a pack of steak knives . . . Look at you. Two centuries and your skin is as smooth as a baby. You have no idea what it's been like scrounging around for two centuries with this ugly mug . . ."

"In the end, they screwed both of us."

He nodded. "You know what? Since we talked, I'm feeling swell! Look at the two of us, here in Sanctuary. 'Prepared for the future!' Heh. Things are looking up. I can feel it this time."

I let him get to work at his market stand while Hancock and I stopped by Sturges' workshop. And there it was. My new baby. It was all shined and polished, fresh with a new coat of metallic blue-gray paint, and a Minutemen insignia on the chest plate.

"Well, how's she lookin'?" asked Sturges from the doorway of the workshop.

"You've outdone yourself. It's better than I hoped for." I stepped out of my old one. "You can do whatever the fuck you want with this trash heap."

He laughed. "I'll see what I can do. No promises, though."

I stepped into my new suit. It was much more comfortable, and didn't smell like sweat. "Thanks, Sturges. I owe you one."

"We look out for our own. Just be careful out there."

"Now that looks good on you," said Hancock.

We finally set out for the Glowing Sea. We had just as much trouble out of radscorpions as we did last time, but we were more prepared for them this time. My power armor was really soaking up the damage. I felt so lightweight. I wondered what Sturges did to this suit. It was like Heaven.

We cautiously entered Virgil's cave again.

"Virgil, we're back," I called.

He looked up from his stove. "Ah, you. Wasn't sure I'd see you again. You managed to get what you need?"

"I have the code."

"Suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You did get rid of Kellogg, after all. Not too much of a leap to take down a courser. How'd you manage to get it decoded?"

I didn't want to compromise the Railroad. "I've made some friends in the Commonwealth."

"Better you than me. Face like this, I'm not going to make too many friends. But you're not the only one who's been busy. I did the best I could, from memory and things I've overheard through the years. Came up with some schematics for you. Wasn't easy; these hands are ridiculous. Fine motor skills have gone to shit. Here's the simple explanation: you need to build a device that will hijack the signal that the Institute uses to teleport coursers, and send you instead."

He handed me a roughly folded piece of paper. I unfolded the large schematics and the revealed sloppy drawings of technology. I'd imagine this is what Sturges' blueprints would look like if he was drunk.

"You know the craziest part of the design? That classical music station . . . That's the carrier signal for the Relay. All the data's on harmonic frequencies. You've been hearing it all along."

I never would have guessed that the frequency was on my pip-boy radio all along on that silly classical music station.

"I want to be clear that this isn't my area of expertise. I was BioScience, not Engineering or Advanced Systems or anything."

"I'm sure it'll work. It'll have to . . ."

"For the record, I haven't made any promises. But if you can build this device, and make use of that code, you should be able to override the signal from the Institute's Relay. Can you? I mean, can you build it? You have people that can help? This is a lot for one person, even you."

I looked at Hancock, and Hancock looked back at me with a grin. "Sturges," we said in unison.

"I've got it covered," I assured Virgil.

"Good, good. Because you've gotta make it in there. For both our sakes. And don't you forget our agreement. I've helped you as best I can. If you make it in there, you find that serum. It's my only hope for ever being . . . normal. So you find it. Now go on, take those schematics and get to work. You do whatever it takes; call on whoever you know to help you."

"Thanks, Virgil. You haven't let me down. I won't let you down."

We walked out of the cave. I was a little disappointed that I was going to have to do even more waiting around. We were quiet for a while. The only thing that could be heard was the thunder of an upcoming radiation storm and the light clanking of my power armor as we marched back home.

"Anybody in there?" Hancock inquired playfully when I hadn't said anything.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just . . . how much longer is my little boy going to have to wait? How much longer until I can see Shaun again?"

He pursed his lips. "Dunno. Life's a bitch."

We made it all the way back to Sanctuary again. I was sad to take my power armor off already. I felt like I barely got to use it. The air was so cold when I left it at Sturges' workshop. I didn't see Sturges anywhere around, so I looked for Preston at the usual lookout.

"What do you need, General?"

"I have these schematics. A scientist named Virgil said that they could get me inside the Institute."

"The Institute? Why in the world would you want to go messing around with them?"

"I didn't tell you? Oh . . . They kidnapped my baby."

"Damn. It was them all along? That's some bad business, even for them. Well, you'll always have my support, so don't worry about that. But assuming we could build this thing . . . what exactly does it do?"

"The Institute has this teleporter they call a Molecular Relay."

"Teleportation? For real?" He took his hat off and rubbed his head. He had a thin layer of black hair, almost as short as a buzz cut. "Wow," he breathed.

"Yeah."

"That would explain a lot about how the Institute manages to operate. If anyone can make heads or tails of those plans, it's Sturges. I haven't found anything yet that he couldn't build or fix."

The three of us searched for Sturges together, and finally found him at the far end of Sanctuary, repairing a broken section of the wall. When he caught sight of the three of us, he stopped working.

"Whoa, is this some kind of intervention or something?"

"No, nothing like that," said Preston. "Nora has got some really important information for you."

"We thought you might be able to figure out these plans for me." I handed him the folded papers.

He unfolded them and looked at them. He squinted his eyes to see the sloppy pencil markings in the dimming sunlight. "Wow, what a mess . . . hmm, looks like . . . encrypted RF transmissions. Okay, so that gets routed through . . . What the hell? Teleportation?" He searched my face. "You can't be serious."

"I'm afraid I'm very serious."

"This is some pretty crazy shit. You're sure these schematics are for real?"

"It's real. I got it from an ex-Institute scientist."

"Really? I didn't know you could be an ex-Institute anything and still be breathing. Anyway, the eggheads never think about the nuts 'n' bolts of actually making something work, but . . . looks like it's all here. Yeah. I'm going to need some time to study this thing. The handwriting is pretty hard to make out. But you can get started on what he calls a 'stabilized reflector platform.' It'll need some pretty high grade metals, but it's basically not that different than the lining of a jet engine or something like that."

"Can you give me a list or something of what I'll need to build this platform?"

"Yeah, sure." We walked back to his workshop. He took the pencil from behind his ear and searched through his desk drawer for a piece of paper to write on. He wrote down everything that was on the list.

"Here's what you'll need for the first piece. I'm pretty sure we've got some of that stuff here at Sanctuary, but we may have to salvage more supplies. While you're doing that, I'll get busy on figuring out how to actually build the rest of this thing."

"Thanks, Sturges. Again, I owe you."

"Keep in mind – I can already tell this is going to take a crazy amount of juice. Like . . . if you had a spare nuclear reactor handy, we could probably use it."

"Damn," Hancock muttered.

"And it's going to be big." Sturges laughed. "So, find a nice, open building site with lots of power available."

"Will do."

Hancock held out his hand to Sturges. "Appreciate it."

Sturges shook his hand. "I'm sorry, you are . . ."

"John Hanock, Mayor of Goodneighbor."

"Oh. Well, nice to meet you."

"Likewise. You do good work. I'm impressed."

"Thanks. My daddy taught me a bunch o' this stuff, but I learned everything else myself."

"Never built much, myself. I'm not supposed to operate any heavy machinery," Hancock stated with a shrug.

"Have you met Preston before, Hancock?"

"We haven't officially met," said Preston, "but I know who he is."

"And I know who you are, Garvey," Hancock smiled. "So, tell me. What's going to keep the Minutemen from falling apart this time?"

"You're looking at him."

He laughed. "I like the way you think."

Preston didn't seem to be taking a liking to Hancock, and Hancock was either oblivious to this fact or just overlooking it like he always did.

I told them that we had better get some rest, because we were going to be busy tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the next day.

And the day after that.

And all month.

Eventually, we made it to the month of February. Hancock had left after the first week of waiting around. He wanted to make it back to Goodneighbor. Preston and I had to salvage parts on our own from the city ruins. When I wasn't salvaging parts, I was doing odd jobs with my new friends. Nick, Piper, Deacon, all of them could have used some extra help, and I could have used the training. I was ready to get my boy back home.

* * *

[See secret chapters.]

* * *

One frigid morning at the beginning of March, I looked myself in the mirror. I noticed that my hair had been growing. It was shaggy and unkempt. My eyes looked tired and baggy. I had a scar on my lower lip and a faded bruise on my right eye. My face was dirty. My arms were getting muscular and defined. My skin had tanned. I barely recognized myself anymore. Was I really the same woman that came out of that vault?

No. I wasn't that woman anymore. The woman that looked back at me in the mirror was fierce. The woman that looked back at me – I knew she was fucking crazy. She'd do whatever it took to get her boy back.

I geared up for the day. I put on my old Vault 111 jumpsuit for old time's sake. It had been resewn, insulated, and reinforced with ballistic fibers. I slipped on my combat boots, latched my pip-boy on my arm, and threw my bag over my shoulder. I had intentions of going to look for more scrap, but Sturges stopped me before I got to the gate.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Sturges, what's going on?"

"Just thought I'd let you know, the Relay will be ready by tomorrow. I just need a little more oil for the generators, and we'll be good to go."

"Really? That's great news!"

"Where are you headed?"

"Well, I was headed to get scrap, but I think I'm just going to stop by Goodneighbor now . . ."


	22. Ch 22: I Tear My Heart Open

**Chapter 22**

 **I Tear My Heart Open**

* * *

"There you are. Almost thought you forgot about me."

I stood in the back room of the Third Rail with a smile on my face and open arms.

MacCready stood from his red chair and walked up to me and hugged me tight. "What's been going on?"

"The usual. Kicking ass, taking names."

"I believe it. Me, on the other hand – well, I have had bad job after bad job. Made some caps, though, so that's something. What brings you here?"

"I came to let Hancock know about the Relay. Long story short, he's been sticking with me through the whole Institute thing, so I figured he'd want to be there when we turn on the teleporter."

"You're going to teleport inside the Institute, and you didn't even invite me?"

"You can come," I smiled.

"Gladly."

"By the way, what was that job you mentioned in your note a few months ago?"

"Oh. That." He had a seat and motioned me to sit down. "Long story . . ."

* * *

[See Secret Chapter: The Long Road's End]

* * *

MacCready wove a tale of misery and woe, heartache and pain. It was the reason that I felt so connected to him. He finally came clean about his past – his whole past. His son was terribly sick, and MacCready felt that he could find the cure in the old Med-Tek building. Having a son of my own, I felt like I had no choice but to help.

The whole ordeal was a messy experience, but we eventually found the supposed cure for his son. We went back to Goodneighbor and gave it to Daisy at her little secondhand shop, who said she would pass it on to a caravan that would take it to MacCready's homestead.

After a heartwarming parting with Daisy, I finally made my way to the old State House to talk to Hancock. "Well, look who it is," he said with a toothy grin when I showed up at the top of the spiral stairs in front of his office. "We heading out again?"

Fahrenheit scoffed, who was sitting on the couch across from him.

I nodded. "Teleporter's all set up."

The three of us traveled back to Sanctuary together. Between reaching Goodneighbor the first time and making it back to Sanctuary, three days had already passed. It was dark when we got there, so we bunked at my place for the night. I dragged a sleeping bag into the spare bedroom for MacCready while Hancock took the couch. I slept on an old mattress on the floor that I moved to my room a month or so ago.

As I lay there trying to rest, however, my eyes wouldn't stay shut. I could hear my pulse pounding behind my ears. My heart was beating with a thud against my chest every half-second. All I could think about was finding my baby boy in that godforsaken Institute tomorrow.

I got up with a defeated sigh and threw a long-sleeved over-shirt on from my tattered dresser. I was wearing a tank top and a pair of old jeans. The air was still pretty cold, and I didn't have any form of heat in my house. Goosebumps raised on my arms as I left the comfort of my warm blanket.

Hancock was nowhere to be seen in the living room. I grabbed a bottle of purified water, drank half, and set it back on the counter. I was curious as to where he had run off to.

I searched around for him. There weren't many people outside. Most of the settlers were already in their homes, asleep. They got up with the rising sun and went to bed with the setting sun. As was the life of hardworking farmers. Crops needed to be tended in order for folks to eat.

I finally spotted Hancock on Mama Murphy's front porch. She was still sitting outside, star gazing, no doubt, when Hancock had found her. I crossed my arms and grinned as I watched the two of them hitting it off. I wondered if he gave Mama Murphy something so she could tell him a vision.

I went back inside and wandered around the living room for a moment or two in deep thought. This house was falling apart, and I knew it. I should have spent more time fixing it up before Shaun's arrival. I was just so busy helping out all the settlers that moved in, and Preston, and Sturges . . .

I went back to my room and grabbed my wool blanket from the mattress and wrapped it around my shoulders. I walked back outside and examined the exterior of my house. Shambles. Holes everywhere. The siding was rusted and peeling. I sighed. I swore to myself that I would fix up the house if I found Shaun in the Institute come morning.

I shook my head. _If? What am I thinking?_ When _I find him. I_ will _find him._

"Hey, couldn't sleep either?" asked a gruff, melodious voice from behind me.

I turned to face Hancock. I glanced at Mama Murphy's porch and didn't see her. She must have finally went to bed. "No," I admitted. "I can't stop thinking about tomorrow."

"Relax. You'll do fine. If the Institute knows what's good for 'em, they'll hand Shaun back without a fuss."

I smirked. "If only it was that easy. I don't think they're ones to surrender."

"Everyone has their weak spot."

"I wonder what it's going to be like in there. I imagine it'd look like shiny, metal walls and rooms like clinics. Robotic men everywhere."

He shrugged. "I never really thought about it."

I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders as a slight breeze started blowing.

He patted my shoulder. "Let's get you back to bed."

* * *

The teleporter consisted of a control console, a molecular beam emitter, a relay dish, a stabilized reflector platform, three huge gas-powered generators, and one smaller one. Sturges knew the ups and downs of each piece of equipment, but I didn't know the first thing about them.

The reflector platform was a thick, triangular piece of metal that sat on the pavement of the Starlight Drive-in. Above it was the molecular beam emitter, held up by three huge metal legs, topped with a rounded coil of copper and two power pylons. Blue sparks flew out of it, sizzling with electricity, making the very air around it feel like static and the hair on my arms stand on end. It looked like something straight out of a sci-fi comic book or an alien-based Hollywood film. I eyed the generators. Sturges wasn't kidding. This thing took a lot of juice. Lots of wires ran from the generators to the console, relay dish, and the other pieces of machinery.

MacCready and Hancock walked close behind me as we made our way to Sturges, who was studying the console with forced concentration. He looked nervous.

"Hey, there you are," he said as I approached. He leaned up from the console and straightened his work belt. "Everything looks good on my end. You ready to see if this thing actually works?"

I glanced up at the huge bolts of blue electricity flying out the top of the emitter. "Shouldn't we . . . test it first?" My voice was meek.

"I wish we could, but we've only got the one frequency code. There's no way to test it without jacking into the Institute's signal. And as soon as we do that, we've used our one and only chance. As soon as the Institute figures out what we did – and I gotta believe those braniacs won't be caught napping twice – that code we've got is useless."

I sighed a shaky breath. It's now or never. I only got one shot. "Let's do this."

"You sure?"

"Sturges, don't make me second guess it. I'm already terrified."

" . . . okay. Your part is simple. Just step onto the platform. I'll start scanning for the Institute signal to lock onto, then . . . I fire her up and we see what happens."

"We'll all be able to fit on that little platform?" asked MacCready.

I glanced between him and Hancock, then back to Sturges.

He scratched his head. "About that . . . I can only send Nora through. She'll have to head in on her own."

"Bullshit!" yelled Hancock.

"Who's supposed to back her up?" MacCready asked.

He shrugged. "Look, it was dumb luck I even got this thing up and running. I'm not a miracle worker. Nora goes in alone, no one else. Once she goes in, this thing shuts down for good, because we won't have another signal code. This is it." He turned to me with an apologetic look and asked, "Do you understand, Nora?"

I nodded. "It's okay, guys," I assured them. "I'll be back with Shaun, or I won't be back at all."

"Well . . . you do what you gotta do," said MacCready.

Hancock scowled. "I ain't comfortable with this, but . . . here." He took some med-x out of his pocket and handed it to me. "Just in case."

I took it. "Thanks. Thanks for everything, guys." I turned my back to them and stepped onto the platform. I searched their worried faces. Even though they looked scared for me, I could tell that they believed I could really do this.

Sturges pressed a bunch of buttons. "Okay, hold re-e-e-eal still. I don't want any corruption of the molecular beam . . ." He pressed a few more and then walked up beside me. "Hey, by the way, I figured this was a golden opportunity to find out as much as we can about the Institute and what they're up to." He started raising his voice over the noise of the molecular beam powering up overhead. "This holotape's all set with a program that will scan their network and download anything it finds." He handed it to me.

As I took it and put it in my pocket, a hose broke free on the side of the molecular beam emitter. "Shit!" I jumped. The loose half of the hose flew around wildly in the air.

"Uh oh! Uh . . . yeah, we better hurry! Don't worry about that tubing wiggling around! It's, uh . . . there for decoration!" The beam was all powered up now, and he returned to the console in a nervous rush. "Scanning for the Institute signal . . . tracking RF . . . and, got it! Hold onto your butt!"

Hancock and MacCready stood by the platform with huge eyes, holding onto their hats.

Sturges mashed one more button, and a blue light took over my vision. For a split second, I felt weightless, like I was floating. Then, I couldn't feel anything at all. I couldn't even think. Like my brain wasn't there. The sensation lasted all of about two seconds, then my vision returned and the blue light faded. I could no longer hear the noises of the wasteland. The crickets chirping or the grasshoppers' song. Not the wind blowing or the dead grass rustling on the ground. It was the silence of a small, dome-like room. There were lights and buttons and circuitry all around me.

In front of me was another room. A bigger one. A computer console and a desk awaited me. I quickly removed the holotape Sturges gave me and inserted it into the computer. I clicked on "Initiate network scanner," and it immediately started downloading the information from the Institute network.

I looked around the room while I waited. My heart was pumping so loud, I thought for sure someone was going to hear it. As far as I knew, I was alone in this room. For now. Everything looked so clean and high tech. The walls were white. More lights and circuitry lined the walls in various places. There were alloy boxes lying around on the floor near the far walls. It was almost like this was a storage room of sorts.

The computer beeped. The scan was complete. I removed the holotape and shoved it back in my pocket. I straightened my leather armor and combat helmet and pulled my gun from its holster on my side. I was prepped and ready.

I turned to the only exit – the stairway behind me – and walked as quietly as possible. It was all for naught, because I immediately heard a voice overhead. It was a man's voice.

"Hello."

I stopped dead in my tracks, eyes wide with fear.

"I wondered if you might make it here. You're quite resourceful. I am known as Father; the Institute is under my guidance."

I didn't know how he was talking to me, or how he was seeing me. I pressed my back up against the wall on the stairway and made myself small, but the voice just kept talking.

"I know why you're here. I'd like to discuss things with you, face-to-face. Please, step into the elevator."

 _Elevator?_

The man's voice stopped talking, but it took me forever to move. I stood there, breathing heavily, for what seemed like twenty minutes, although it was more like two. I made my way down the rest of the stairs and, sure enough, there was another clean-looking white room with a metal floor and an elevator in the center.

The elevator was made of glass. It was rounded with a slanted, spiral-like door. The bottom of the glass had a hexagon pattern all over it. I could barely see the bottom of the elevator through the glass. I wondered how far it went. As I stepped inside, I didn't even have to press the red button on the control pad. The door shut behind me, and I was transported down through the floor.

The voice spoke again. "I can only imagine what you've heard, what you think of us. I'd like to show you that you may have . . . the wrong impression."

Within a matter of seconds, the inside of the floor surrounding the walls of the glass elevator gave way, and I gazed upon the Institute in it's full glory. It was amazing, yet somehow horrifying. I could see trees. _Live_ trees, with green leaves. I could see patches of grass. Waterfalls. It was like an indoor park. The inside was massive. I saw at least twenty scientists congregated below, conversing, holding clipboards and pens, dressed in their white lab coats, men and women alike. Everything was lit up in bright white fluorescent lights.

"Welcome to the Institute," said the voice.

I took a deep, shaky breath. _Is this real? What exactly is this place?_

As if he could read my mind, he clarified, "This is the reality of the Institute. This place, these people, the work we do. For over a hundred years, we've dedicated ourselves to humanity's survival. Decades of research, countless experiments and trials . . . a shared vision of how science can help shape the future. It has never been easy, and our actions are often misinterpreted by those above ground. Someday, perhaps, we can show them what we've accomplished. But for now, we must remain underground."

The elevator went down into the floor of that large room with all the scenery and finally came to a halt in another room underneath. The glass door slid to the right, allowing me to step out of it. The air smelled . . . foreign. It smelled of sterilized tools, plastic, and clean oxygen. I took a few steps down the hall in front of me.

"There's too much at stake to risk it all," he continued. "As you've seen, things above are . . . unstable. I'd like to talk to you about what we can do, for everyone. But that can wait. You are here for a specific, very personal reason. You are here . . . for your son."

My heart skipped a beat. _How did he know that? Have I been watched this whole time?_

It was like the hallway went on forever. It was at least forty feet long. It finally swerved to the right, leading me through a doorway.

 _Thump-thump._

Then it swerved to the left, and into another elevator.

 _Thump-thump._

I pressed the red button. The elevator went up.

 _Thump-thump._

A door opened, leading into another room. I peaked inside.

 _Thump-thump._

There, on the other side of a glass wall, was a little boy . . . with dark hair . . . like his father's.

 _Thump . . ._

My heart stopped. My whole body trembled. It was Shaun. My Shaun. I finally found him. My weak legs carried me over to the glass wall. I looked upon him. He was sitting cross-legged in the floor with toys strewn around him. There was a bed inside and a long metal table that had food and water on it. A shelf with a first-aid kit was mounted on the wall over the bed.

I put a hand to the glass. I could barely see through my own tears.

". . . Shaun?"

"Huh?" He turned to look at me. His big, brown eyes gleaming with life had so many questions in them. "Yes, I'm Shaun." He stood up and faced me.

"Shaun . . . I've been looking for you for so long." My voice broke and a lump made it's way into my esophagus.

"Who are you?"

"Shaun, it's me. I'm . . . your mom."

"Father!" he cried. "What's going on? What's happening?"

I put both my hands up to the glass. "Shaun? Are you okay? Are you hurt?" When my shock dissipated, I had sense enough to check the door to my left to see if I could get into his glass room. It wouldn't budge, and the keypad on the door was inactive. _Damn it._

"What's going on? Father? Father!"

"Shaun, open the door!"

"I don't know you! Go away! Father! Father, help me!" He was frantically searching the room, calling out to someone he called Father. I wasn't sure if he meant the man that greeted me overhead upon my arrival, or a man that staged as his biological father. Both thoughts made my blood boil. "Father, there's someone here! Help me!"

"Shaun, please . . . calm down. I'll get you out of here." It was no use. I could barely hear myself speak over the child's incessant cries for help. He must have thought I looked like a maniac in my leather armor and guns strapped to my body . . .

The doors to my right opened. In walked a tall, gray-headed man with a beard. He wore a white lab coat, a green shirt, dark green pants, and a pair of brown dress shoes. His face was wrinkled with smile lines and brow creases. His eyes were a deep brown and full of wisdom.

He spoke, and I knew that this must have been Father. "Shaun . . . S9-23 Recall Code Cirrus."

Shaun finally calmed down. In fact, he slumped over on his feet and he stood there, lifeless. His arms were limp at his body. His eyes closed. Almost like he . . . shut down.

"Fascinating . . . but disappointing. The child's responses were not at all what I had anticipated. He's a prototype, you understand. We're only just now beginning to explore the effects of extreme emotional stimuli. Please, try and keep an open mind," he said calmly as I started breaking down. "I recognize that you are emotional, and that your journey here has been fraught with challenges. Let's start anew. I'm Father. Welcome to the Institute."

 _Is this what dying feels like?_ My insides felt as though they were being twisted around my a deathclaw's hand. My heart felt like it was physically bleeding through my chest. If that was a synth, where was my child?

I looked him in the eye, with all my rage and heartache swimming on the surface.

"Are . . . Are you following?" he asked with concern.

"I could kill you. Right here. Right now."

"Yes. Yes you could. And I would be powerless to stop you."

"I want answers, asshole. Now."

"Under the circumstances, I will forgive your . . . vulgarity. But I need you to realize that this . . . situation is far more complicated than you could have imagined. You have traveled very far, and suffered a great deal, to find your son. Well, your tenacity and dedication have been rewarded. It's good to finally meet you, after all this time. It's me. I am Shaun. I am . . . your son."

My face went blank. I didn't know if I should believe him, if I wanted to believe him. It took me a while to process what he had said.

"I hope you're not too overwhelmed," he said calmly.

"That's . . . that's bullshit."

"Is it? After all the things you've seen and experienced in the Commonwealth? Think about it . . . In the vault, you had no concept of the passage of time. You were released from your pod, and went searching for the son you'd lost. But then, you learned your son was no longer an infant, but a 10-year-old boy. You believed that ten years had passed. Is it really so hard to accept that it was not ten, but sixty years? That is the reality. And here I am. Raised by the Institute, and now its leader."

 _Si-sixty years? But . . . how . . ._

My world came crashing down on top of me. Everything that had kept me going in the past few months, everything I was working toward, everything I was hoping for . . . was pissed away right then and there.

My emotions flowed out my eyes and into rivers. I could barely breathe. "It wasn't right," I gasped between crying breaths. "What they did. Taking you from me like that!"

"To you, that would certainly seem true. But to the Institute, it made all the sense in the world. At that time, the year 2227, the Institute had made great strides in synth production. Scientific curiosity, and the goal of perfection, drove them ever onward. What they wanted was . . . the perfect machine. So they followed the best example thus far – the human being. Walking, talking, fully articulate, capable of anything."

"Human synths? Really?"

"Human-like synths. A great distinction. The Institute endeavored to create synthetic organics. The most logical starting point was that of human DNA. Plenty of that was available, of course, but it had all become corrupted. In this . . . wasteland . . . radiation affected everyone. Even their attempts to shield themselves from the world above, members of the Institute had been exposed. Another source was necessary. But then the Institute found me, after discovering records from Vault 111. An infant, frozen in time, protected from the radiation-induced mutations that crept into every other human cell in the Commonwealth."

I took deep breaths to steady my breathing. Everything he said made sense. Painful, ridiculous sense.

"I was exactly what they needed. And so it was my DNA that became the basis of synthetic organics used to create every human-like synth you see today. I am their Father. Through science, we are family. The synths, me . . . and you."

The reality was finally starting to sink in. "Shaun . . . it's really you . . ." I took slow steps toward him. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him to me. My baby boy wasn't a baby anymore. Nowhere close to it. As I hugged him, his whole body stiffened up. No doubt he didn't want to be 'contaminated,' as I was completely covered in wasteland dirt and dust.

"It really is," he said and backed away subtly. "I know you must have questions. Please, anything I can do to help you understand."

My mind instantly jumped to Nate. "Your father . . . He never got to see you grow up."

"Yes, what happened to him was . . . I've gone over the records of the incident, of course. It seems what happened to him was an unfortunate bit of collateral damage. For many years, I never questioned who my parents were; I accepted my situation and that was that. With old age comes regret, and asking 'what if' more often . . . But, what matters now is that you and I have a chance to begin again."

I looked to the ground. I wasn't sure how I felt about that yet. It hadn't made its way into my mind.

"What else can I do to ease your mind?"

"Kellogg. I . . . killed him, looking for you. He . . . worked for you?"

"Kellogg." His face went sour, his voice troubled. He turned away from me for a brief moment and looked at the wall blankly. He walked over to a swivel chair to his right by a desk and sat down in it, slowly bending his knees so as to not hurt himself. "He was an Institute asset long before I arrived here. It wasn't until I became Director that I learned of all the things he'd done . . . what kind of man he was."

"You knew the man was a psychopath, but you used him anyway?"

"Would you have preferred I turned him loose on the Commonwealth? At least keeping him on a short leash kept the collateral damage at a minimum. The Institute took advantage of Kellogg's vicious nature. I will freely admit that. Institute technology prolonged his life, and his usefulness, far beyond any normal human lifespan. He never failed the Institute, but his cruelty became more apparent with every completed objective." He rested his elbow on the desk and rubbed his temple. "I won't lie: it's no coincidence your path crossed his. It seemed a fitting way to allow you . . . us . . . to have some amount of revenge."

I looked at him with no small amount of surprise. _He planned on me killing Kellogg all along? But . . ._ "So you're in charge of the Institute? All of this?"

He nodded and laced his fingers together. "I am the acting Director, yes. I spent decades working to reach this point. It's a responsibility I take very seriously. The Institute . . . It's important. It really is humanity's best hope for the future, no matter what those above ground might think of us."

"But . . . Director? Why you?"

"I was the most qualified for the position, obviously. I've lived my life within these walls, dedicating to science like every other member of the Institute. My hard work has paid off. Ultimately the Commonwealth has nothing to fear from us. Whatever you've seen or heard, I know I can convince you of that. Just . . . give me time. I know there's more for us to discuss, but . . . the Institute is on the verge of some important breakthroughs. Your presence would be appreciated as we approach them. I've been a part of something amazing here. I've helped to build a life for myself and the people of the Institute. And now, after all these years, you have an opportunity to help with that. Doesn't that intrigue you? Isn't that what you want?"

"Wait, you want me to stay here? In the Institute?"

"Yes, that is what I propose. Is that so hard to imagine? The Institute can provide a better life than anything of that above ground. You've been in the Commonwealth. You've seen what it's like. I assure you that you are better off with us."

"How can you say that?" I scoffed. "How can you be so dismissive of all those people, everything-"

"Because it is the simple truth, and I believe you know it, too. I simply ask that you give the Institute . . . me . . . a chance. A chance to show you what I've been telling you. We really do have humanity's best interest at heart. Will you take that chance?"

I mulled it over in my head. This _was_ my son, and the full, harsh reality of it. Although I was expecting a child to take home with me, I get the Institute Director instead. I thought of Piper and her paper, all the missing people she reported on in Diamond City. I thought of Hancock and all the other ghouls of the Commonwealth. I thought of MacCready. I thought of Preston and the Minutemen, Deacon and the Railroad, even Danse and the Brotherhood. How could he forsake all those people? How could he kidnap innocents and replace them with copies? Was that something I really wanted to be a part of? I'd lose all my friends and give up many of my own morals – the last few morals I have, the last few holding me together and keeping me sane.

". . . No. I'm sorry. I . . . can't do that."

He breathed deeply through his nose and huffed out his mouth. "I'm sorry to hear that. I had certainly hoped we could work together, but every man must make his own decisions. If you choose to leave, I cannot force you to stay. Understand, though, that I cannot allow you to remain within the Institute. You may have safe passage where you will be sent back to the Relay where you will be sent back to the surface, but from that point . . . you must be considered hostile."

My face contorted into shock. He didn't even seem upset that I told him no. He seemed more . . . passive than anything. After all this time, he wanted to see if I'd come find him, and after I finally reached him, he put me on his shit list just because I didn't agree with his methods. The insanity . . .

"I'm sorry," he continued. "Understand that we put first the safety of the Institute. And in the cruel world that we live in, those who are not with us are against us." He sighed and turned his back to me in his rolling chair. "The elevator will return you to the Relay."

I stood there for a moment, processing all that was just exchanged. He never looked back at me, just sat there with his elbows on the desk, hands in front of him, fingers laced together. When I finally turned to leave, I took one last glance at the synth child in the glass room. My heart ached. I felt like I had just fought a battle and lost, humiliatingly.

I went back down the elevator and through the hallway. I got back in the main elevator and watched all the clean water and greenery pass me by. I took in the sight of it one last time, knowing good and well that I'd never see it again. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I gazed at their healthy green leaves, remembering days long past when Nate and I would visit the park or go on road trips, taking in the sights as we went. Days of my childhood, playing in my mother's front yard, scraping my knee and her kissing it and applying a bandage. Something I had hoped to do with my own son . . .

The view faded away from the glass elevator, and I entered the next floor above me. It opened automatically, allowing me to enter the way I came in. I couldn't believe he was making me see myself out. I entered the Relay room again and a flash of blue light sent me whizzing through the air as molecular particles back to the Commonwealth.


	23. Ch 23: An Eye for an Eye

**Chapter 23**

 **An Eye for an Eye**

* * *

When I came to, I found myself in front of the old CIT ruins.

 _Great, now I have to walk all the way back home. What a day._

I checked my pip-boy for directions and trudged along down the road. I caught myself asking myself questions like "Would I really care if a super mutant mauled me with a nail board right now?" And, "That river looks awfully inviting; should I just jump in?" Despite my depression, I wasn't in the mood to end my own life. As much as I hated it, I still had some responsibilities. People I owed favors to.

Speaking of people I owed favors to, how was I ever supposed to get Virgil's serum now? I promised . . .

During the time I spent walking back to Sanctuary, I went into bouts of crying, silence, wailing, incomprehensible mumbling, and deranged laughter. Each step I took was becoming heavier and heavier. It was like there was no end to the road. The sun beat down on my back and nearly cooked me in my leather armor. I hadn't a drop of water on me.

 _What am I supposed to tell them when I get back? Will they believe me?_

Little did I know, there were already hostile Gen-2 synths positioned inside a broken down pharmacy building. I had to fight off three of them, and miraculously succeeded with no backup. I even looted them for ammo and parts before continuing on my way.

I took a new route this time, not because I was feeling adventurous, but because I stopped checking the route on my pip-boy after a while and just roamed around. I passed up Lexington Apartments and had a run-in with some raiders. I made it out with bruises and scrapes. I stopped by some other place called Mystic Pines, an old nursing home. There were skeletons of the admitted prewar patients still lying in their beds. I searched everywhere for water, or Nuka-Cola, even, but no luck. I made it out with a magazine, a tube of Wonderglue, and a few canisters of jet.

I stopped by a rotten landfill to help a lone settler who was being attacked by a huge pack of angry molerats. His arm was hurt pretty badly, and I pointed him in the direction of the nearest settlement. He gave me fifty caps as a thank-you and went on his way.

It was sunset when I arrived home. It had just started sprinkling as I made it over the bridge to Sanctuary. Two of our lookouts let me in through the gate, shocked that I was even still alive. I searched the area for Preston or MacCready or Hancock. I found all three sitting outside the workshop with Sturges. They were all doing something to keep them busy, just fidgety things. They all looked restless.

I waved weakly at them, and they all jumped up and swarmed me in the middle of the street. My ears were filled with questions and praises, but I honestly didn't feel like I could physically answer them. When they caught on that something was wrong, they got quiet.

I just took the holotape out of my pocket and handed it to Sturges. "Here's that holotape you gave me. Full of Institute data, I hope."

He took it and put it in his own pocket, but never took his eyes off me. "Well, alright . . . I guess I'll start diggin' into this and see if I can make heads or tails of it. You . . . alright?"

"Just see what you can find on that holotape. We need a way to bring the fight to them."

"Let's hope we've got something we can use. They sure aren't going to fall for the teleport hijacker trick twice, even if it wasn't a smoking pile of scrap metal. All the good stuff on here is going to be encrypted, so the first job is to see if I can crack it. After that, well, I'll have to see what I've got. There's no telling what we might have grabbed off their mainframe."

"Yeah . . . you do that." I started to walk away, but MacCready grabbed my arm.

"Where's Shaun?" he asked in a hushed tone.

He wasn't the only one expecting an answer. All eight eyes were on me, curious, suspenseful. I just shook my head. And cried again. I could feel how swollen my eyes were. I didn't have the strength to tell them.

They left me alone as I walked to my house and crawled my way into bed. I just wanted to die.

* * *

The next day wasn't too much easier. Everything was still fresh in my mind, and the morning was awkward. MacCready and Hancock were sitting on my couch, watching me rummage through the fridge with concerned expressions.

There was a knock on my front door. MacCready got up to answer it. Preston stood on the other side at ease.

"General."

I sighed and slammed the refrigerator door. "What, are you going to watch me eat breakfast, too?"

"Er, no. I just received word from the Castle. They said they spotted hostiles scouting the area. I was hoping you'd come take a look with me."

I turned my head and took a deep breath. "Yeah . . . yeah. I'll be out in a few minutes."

Hancock nor MacCready tried to stop me from gearing up and heading out with Preston, because they knew better. I was going to be highly irritated if it was Institute bastards harassing the Minutemen, now.

It was a long trip, so I packed enough provisions for me and Preston. We finally made it to the coast. The Castle bathed in the sunlight of a cloudless day. Ronnie Shaw met us at the main gate, rifle poised on her shoulder.

She saluted me. "Glad you made it in time, General. I guess we're about to find out if these new Minutemen really have what it takes."

"What's going on?"

"We've seen those Institute crow-things sniffing around. Looks like they're getting ready to take us out."

"Shit, I knew it." I was seething. _So, my son wants to start a war with me, now, huh?_

"Don't worry, General. We've called in volunteers, so we aren't short of people. We'll see how these greenhorns do in a real fight. But our defenses could use some beefing up before it's too late."

I nodded. "If it's a fight they want, it's a fight they'll get." I went full-on General mode. "Preston, you come with me. Ronnie, check the walls, make sure every post and artillery is manned. I want a rifle _and_ a pistol on every Minuteman we have." I walked Preston to the armory. "We'll distribute fragmentation grenades evenly between all the soldiers. Even if that means spreading it as thin as giving every other one a single grenade a piece. Move it."

Preston nodded. "I'm on it, General." He started searching through the boxes on the shelves for our grenades.

I pulled out our extra laser turrets on rickety old rolling carts and had a Minuteman help me set them up around the gates. We cleaned up the barrels in the machine gun turrets. I heard the soldier on the radio at the tower broadcast to the Commonwealth that we needed all available Minutemen soldiers to come to the Castle as soon as possible.

Though, they wouldn't have had time to join us. A few moments later, blue lasers started shooting at the turrets closest to the large hole in the wall we've yet to patch up, unmistakably from an Institute rifle.

"Positions!" I yelled over the panicking soldiers.

We managed to get rid of a few of the normal synth patrollers with our defenses and guns, but then I noticed . . . the courser hiding behind the broken down car in the field.

My eyes went wide. "COURSER!" I yelled to Preston.

"Fall back!" He waved to the other Minutemen outside the walls, but it was too late. We had gained at least three casualties mere seconds after noticing the courser. He had quick reflexes and accurate precision.

I climbed the grating to the wall and aimed a few grenades at the courser. He was too close for our artillery to hit him. The cannons would never be able to hit their target. I prayed the grenades would do some damage, but they all bounced off the rough hills and dips in the field and barely hit him at all.

"General! What's the plan?" Preston called from the courtyard.

 _Think, Nora, think . . ._ "Aim for the car!" I yelled back.

I aimed my 10mm where the miniature nuclear reactor would be. I remembered when gas tanks were replaced by these when I was just a little girl. Preston, I, and a few of the Minutemen who caught onto the plan, aimed at the car, and it exploded in no time.

The courser took a huge hit. It looked as though it crippled his dominant hand, because he started shooting with the other, and his aim was off. The main problem after this was that he initialized some kind of stealth device that rendered him invisible. It was hard to tell where he was until he fired a shot. We finally took him down with a lot of effort and two more casualties.

It wasn't until after we wasted him that we realized there was another courser in the courtyard, and the remaining Minutemen were struggling with him. We turned our attention on him, and our turrets managed to do a lot of damage. Our laser turrets had heat-seeking sensors, thank God, and these Gen-3 synths were as warm-blooded as any human being.

Once he was down for the count, a few Minutemen celebrated – too early.

It was then we realized we were completely surrounded with Gen-2 patrollers and Gen-3 coursers. We had to retreat to the inside of the walls, using any hiding spot we could hide in. They just kept coming, teleporting outside our walls through the familiar blue light. The inside of the barracks, the mess hall, even my room were being used as cover. There were at least five more coursers. I thought for sure we were all done for.

Thankfully, Ronnie thought to put up some tesla traps in the doorways for situations like this. It rendered most helpful when she activated them and fried their circuits with the electric snares.

It felt like we had been fighting for ages. It was down to two coursers versus me, Preston, Ronnie, and five other Minutemen. We were all that was left . . .

By the time nightfall came around, we had no working artillery or defenses, our radio was fucked, our generators had bullet holes in them, and over half our volunteering soldiers were dead. A very tired Preston came up to me with distress in his face and heartbreak in his eyes.

"General . . ."

I put a hand up. "Don't . . . I don't have to hear it . . ."

Ronnie stood in the center of the courtyard, dead synths and soldiers alike at her feet. "Listen up, kiddies! The Institute thought they could push us around and we showed them different. Next time, we're gonna be taking the fight to them, and we'll see how they like it. We lost some good people today. You may wonder why you survived and your friend didn't. I'm afraid that's above my pay grade. All I can say is that it's up to us to make that sacrifice mean something. But we don't have time to sit around moping about our losses, or bragging about winning. We're the Minutemen, goldurnit, and that means we've always gotta be ready for the next fight. Let's get back to it, people. Clean this mess up!"

I approached her. "Thank you, Ronnie. I'm not sure if I would have been able to do that. The speech . . ."

"No problem, General. I guess the Institute will think twice before tangling with the Minutemen again. I hear you're working on figuring out how to hit back at those rats. I hope you find a way, and soon. I'd like another crack at them, with the shoe on the other foot this time. Preston wanted to talk to you. Maybe he has some good news."

I remembered blowing him off just moments ago. I felt a pang of guilt, so I went to find him. He was tinkering with one of our broken turrets.

"Preston. I'm sorry . . . What were you going to say?"

"I had some news for you. Before we left this morning, Sturges said he found a way into the Institute. He'd been up all night thinking about it."

"Why didn't you tell me before we got here?"

"I was afraid you'd charge headfirst into the Institute's doors, before thinking about what could be happening at the Castle. I had a feeling it was them when I got the report this morning. But now that we have them on the defensive, we could launch an attack whenever you say the word."

* * *

We moved out fast and made it to Sanctuary as soon as possible. It was two in the morning and pitch black, but we didn't let anything stop us on our way. Mirelurks, raiders, Gunners, nothing stood a chance. Of course, when we made it back to Sanctuary, everyone was asleep. Everyone but Hancock. I was beginning to notice that he barely ever slept.

"Nora, what happened?" he asked as we passed Mama Murphy's porch. He had been sitting in her chair there. He took in my exhausted stature, my muddy pants, my bruised cheek, a few bloodstains on my arms.

I balled my hands into fists. "The Castle was attacked by the Institute," I hissed. "There were at least three dozen of them. Coursers everywhere . . . Those bastards took out more than half of our citizen soldiers. Nearly every volunteer . . . is dead."

"Damn." His face was somber. "I'm sorry . . ."

"I'll go get Sturges up," said Preston. He made for the bed house down the street from Sturges' workshop.

A silence lingered between Hancock and I. I was filled with outrage, yet exhausted from the battle. Hancock was seething in his own degree, glaring at the wood of the porch underneath his feet. When I noticed his anger escalating, I let go of most of my own anger and touched his arm.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

"No, Nora, it's not. The Institute is ruining lives, and taking some in the process. Those volunteers didn't know what they were in for . . ." He looked up at me, directly into my eyes, and whispered, "What happened in the Institute?"

I just stared at him. I still hadn't told anyone what happened.

He sighed. "Nora." He adjusted his hat and put his hands in his pockets. "Look. You ain't exactly been open about the subject. We've all been dyin' to know what happened down there. You left with so much determination. You said, 'if I don't come back with my son, I won't be back at all.' Where's Shaun? Was he . . . ?"

"No. He's not dead." I crossed my arms and turned away from him.

"Then, why are you here? You ain't holdin' out on us, are ya?"

I shot him a hateful glare. "Like, what, secretly siding with them?"

"No, I didn't _say_ that. Sounds like someone has a guilty conscience."

"Don't you dare imply – I can't believe I'm hearing this from you!"

"All I'm sayin' is you ain't been yourself since you got back. I've been hearing whispers. Some folks think you're a synth."

I snorted. "'Folks' meaning 'you.'"

"I have my doubts, but – "

"Shut the hell up, Hancock. You say one more word about me and the Institute, I will make you regret it."

He was getting angry now. "You threatening me, now?"

"You're damn right I am. Who are you to point fingers at me? You know what I've been through! The things I've had to do, the people I've killed! I just lost three-fourths of the Castle – we barely won the battle. And you're going to stand here and accuse me of being a synth? Or worse, siding with those bastards?"

"What are we supposed to think?" His voice was raised.

"Stop saying 'we' and 'they!' You know damn well this is a personal issue, and I wanna know why."

He growled. "You wanna know why? I've been with you every step of the way through this whole crazy-ass Institute roller-coaster ride, and now you're not even gonna tell me what happened in there! If I had been able to go with you, you would have had no objections."

"Because – !"

"Everyone thought the Institute was a one-way trip. So how did you make it out unscathed, huh? How did you walk out of there empty handed with not even so much as a bruise?!" He grabbed my wrist.

"Let go of me!"

"You made it out of that bloody battle in the Castle, but so many others died. It was _you_ they were after. How did you make it out of there, huh?"

I yanked my arm away from him and swung it back up to punch him in the face, but he caught my fist. We stood there like that for a few moments in silence, the heat of rage rising between us. Our eyes were locked. Who was going to break first?

. . . Me.

"My son let me go," I whispered.

Hancock let go of my fist, and I dropped it to my side.

"My son isn't dead. And he's not a baby. He's . . . old." My voice cracked. "He's so old, Hancock." I could feel myself starting to cry again.

"What are you talkin' about?" His rage slowly dissipated as he took in my distress.

"He's an old man, Hancock. And he's the Director of the Institute."

He sat down slowly in Mama Murphy's chair with a look of disbelief. His black eyes zoned out with his mouth slightly agape.

"Are you happy now?" I hissed. "My son is a sixty-year-old man and doesn't even love me. Everything that has kept me going, made me strong enough to reach him, was for nothing. I wish I had never found him. I wish I had never got out of that stupid vault! I wish Kellogg had killed me with Nate!" I was yelling and crying uncontrollably.

Mama Murphy opened her front door. "Will you love birds take your arguing elsewhere? Us old people gotta sleep, you know."

Without an apology, I turned away from her. Sturges, Preston, and MacCready was standing about fifteen feet away from me on the sidewalk to my left, watching the whole display. They each had their own agonizing expression of disbelief and pity as they watched me break down for the hundredth time.

"WHAT?" I screamed at them.

None would answer. They just stared at me with pity in their eyes, which only made me angrier. I turned from them to Hancock, then to a confused Mama Murphy standing in the doorway.

"You're all a bunch of assholes, you know that? I don't need your fucking pity."

I stomped away from them without looking back. I wasn't sorry. Not yet, anyway. I was too angry to think about how much of a bitch I was being. I wasn't just angry; I was depressed. I hated myself. I hated everything. I hated my life.

I swung my front door open and slammed it behind me. I threw myself on my couch and laid there for several minutes, screaming into the cushions and punching the armrest. And finally, when I felt I hadn't a single ounce of energy left in me, I lay there lifeless with bruised knuckles and a sore throat, staring at the ceiling . . .

Daylight was breaking. I could see the sun through the cracks and holes in my ceiling and walls. I looked at my pip-boy. It read seven o'clock.

I thought, _it won't be long before –_

Then there was a light knock on my door.

 _Of course . . ._

I expected Preston or even Sturges, but it was neither of them. It was MacCready. He had a cheerless expression and a bottle of whiskey in one hand. He stood over me on the couch and presented the bottle to me.

I took it gratefully and drank two gulps.

"Slow down, there, killer," he said softly. He took the bottle from me and put the cap back on. I sat up and let him sit down on the couch with me. It was quiet as we sat there looking at the wall with our hands in our laps. Not even the ticking of a clock could be heard.

And the next words that exited his mouth were, "Hancock said he's sorry."

I could feel a twinge of anger already surfacing. He had really pissed me off last night. "Why couldn't he come in here and tell me that himself?"

"Because he's out trying to find a way to make it up to you now."

I looked down at my hands and fidgeted with the hem of my leather armor. "Do _you_ think I'm a synth?"

"Pft. No. No synth can match your attitude. You're a little spitfire."

I half grinned.

"Besides, if you were, you could have easily helped those coursers kill everyone at the Castle, including Preston and Ronnie. But you didn't."

"I suppose."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about your son. I just – I wish you had told us sooner. You know that we support you. Why didn't you just . . . say something?"

"I was afraid that you'd think . . . that if my son is Director, then I'd . . ."

"Join the Institute?"

I nodded.

"Nora, c'mon."

" _You_ may not believe it, but Hancock seemed to believe it without me even telling him anything."

"That's the reason he believed it," he pointed out. "He has had this lingering feeling about his brother being replaced by a synth for the past few years, but he had no proof of it. He was afraid that was going to happen to you, too. I told him you're tougher than that. You'd probably murder your own replica before it set foot in the Commonwealth."

I chuckled. He was right.

"Everything will be fine." He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. "You ever consider smoking?" he asked.

"Not a lot. I tried smoking in college."

"I wouldn't know anything about college. But I do know that if you did, you might feel better."

"A lot of things would make me feel better right now."

He smirked and put his cigarettes back in his pocket. "Yep. You're still Nora." He got up from the couch.

"Wait, was that a synth test?"

He just smiled and left the house.

I shook my head. He did make me feel better, though. He seemed to always know the right thing to say. I thought, if it boiled down to it, I could count MacCready as my best friend.

I wondered where Hancock was. MacCready said that he was trying to find a way to make up for last night. Hancock wasn't very handy. In fact, he'd never used a hammer or a wrench that I knew of. I didn't take him as the artistic type. So I knew that he wasn't _making_ anything for me.

I stood up from the couch, dusted myself off, ran my fingers through my hair, and walked outside. I felt the rising sun kiss my skin with warm light. The days were still unbearably cold, but it was finally starting to get warmer as March approached.

I caught sight of Sturges walking toward his workshop with a stretch and a yawn. He adjusted his overalls on his shoulders and pulled his gloves out of his pockets. He waved at me before he slipped them on.

"Hey, Sturges," I said bashfully. "I'm sorry about last night. I don't really think all of you are assholes . . ."

He waved a dismissive hand. "No hard feelings. You've been through a lot . . ."

"Damn, you guys are too nice to me." I shoved my hands in my pockets and looked at my feet. "I don't see how any of you put up with me."

"Now, don't go being hard on yourself just because you had a rough time last night. Remember, you successfully kept the synths at the Castle at bay. That was a feat. There's no telling when they'll try again, though. So, I thought I'd go over my plan as to how to get inside the Institute since the Relay trick won't work again."

I nodded. "Okay. I'm listening."

We walked into his workshop and to the big square table in the back where he drew out all his blueprints. He had a dim table lamp on the table, illuminating the sheet of paper there. On it was a drawing of what looked like a tunnel system of sorts. A very large tunnel system.

"I was hoping there'd be something worth all the time I spent cracking their encryption. Turns out, there was. One of the things in the data you stole was a plan of the whole Institute complex, including the older sections that used to be part of CIT. Turns out they're still using an old water pipe that runs out to the river. Brings in cooling water to their reactor."

He pointed to the paper where the entrance was. He had drawn a rough image of a river over the entrance. He traced his finger along the entrance and the pipe that led past it.

"The entrance is underwater, and is blocked by a security grate. Also, the whole pipe is labeled 'High Radiation: Danger.'"

"So what you're saying is, I need to break through an underwater security grate in high radiation. In a sewer pipe, no less."

"I can't find any other way in, so it's either this or nothing."

I sighed. "Sounds like fun . . ."

"Yeah, I know. But there's no other way. I did manage to pull the code to open the grate, so all you have to do is survive the trip."

"Thanks, Sturges. You make my life easier."

He chuckled. "I try. Now, as soon as you get in there, you need to access the main Relay Control. Use this holotape to teleport everybody into the Institute." He took a holotape out of his pocket and gave it to me.

I put it in my pocket. "Okay."

"Good luck down there, boss. Try not to grow any extra limbs or anything."


	24. Ch 24: All's Fair in Love and War

**Chapter 24**

 **All's Fair in Love and War**

* * *

"Have you seen Hancock?"

Preston looked up from cleaning his laser rifle by the gate. "I haven't. What's going on?"

"I just need to find him before we start the whole Institute infiltration thing."

"When are we doing that?"

"As soon as I can find Hancock, wherever he is. Today is the day, Preston. We can't wait any longer."

He nodded. "Agreed. Let me know when you start to head out, General."

"Oh, and about last night, I – "

He held up a hand. "No need. You were under a lot of pressure. I haven't lost any respect for you, General."

I nodded. "Thanks. That means a lot."

I searched all of Sanctuary for Hancock. No one seemed to know where he went off to, and he hadn't given MacCready any details.

I traveled outside the town. I didn't see him across the bridge or at the river. I carried on to Red Rocket Station. He wasn't there, either. I searched around the town of Concord down the road to see if he was scavenging or something. I checked most of the houses, but only found radroaches, prewar skeletons, and junk.

I gave up and went back to Red Rocket Station. It was still a dump. We haven't had much time to do anything with it. Sanctuary was our main priority. I remember Sturges eyeing this place when we first came here a few months back, after I helped them in Quincy. He loved the place. Called it his 'vacation home' or something. Maybe I'd do something special with it after everything was over, just for him. Sturges has done so much for me. For all of us.

I leaned on the broken guard rail by the road and examined the building. It was an old fill-up station. I was almost certain we could take out the old gas pump and robotic assistance arms from the overhang, then clean up the inside and make it presentable again. The old counter could stay. The toolboxes and crates could, too. There was already a workbench inside and some other workstations we could use for armor and weapons. Lots of space to store ammo in the back room. And another room with a garage door that Sturges could make use of for his new work room. Lots of space out back if he had to grow something to eat. Walking back and forth to Sanctuary for a meal would get tiring. I knew he was going to love it.

As my plans unfolded in my head, I heard something down the road. I rested my hand on my gun at my side and peeked around the corner. I saw the familiar red and black of Hancock's frock and hat, and behind him something black and brown was scurrying across the pavement. It stayed constantly at his heels, but sometimes jumped up to nibble on his hand that hung at his side.

I could hear him laughing and talking to it. "Calm down, now," he'd say.

It was a dog. It looked a lot like a Rottweiler. It wasn't very big, though. Still in it's adolescence.

Hancock waved at me as he got closer.

I waved back curiously. "What are you doing?" I asked.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I wanted to make up for last night. I didn't mean to get so angry with ya. And I should have never doubted you . . ." He motioned to the dog beside him. "She was kind of a . . . last minute decision? I was walkin' around, thinkin' about how I was going to make up for all that crap, when a guy walked by and asked me if I wanted to buy a dog. He was apparently a breeder that traveled around with the weaned dogs to sell. And I heard back before the war, dogs were given as gifts to ladies and kids."

I gave him a sideways smirk and crossed my arms. "You got me a puppy?"

"I mean, I could probably take her back if you don't have time for her. But seein' as how you didn't come back with Shaun, I thought . . . Ah, this was a stupid idea . . ."

"No, no, I'll take her. I'm touched. Really." I smiled down at the little dog. "Hey, sweetie." I held out my hand for her to smell it.

She sniffed at my fingertips, then licked my palm. She smiled at me and wagged her tail, waiting to be scratched behind the ears. I petted her until she rolled over on her back and flailed her arms around playfully.

"She likes you," said Hancock. "I guess I picked the right one."

"Thank you, Hancock. She's adorable. I'm sure Dogmeat would love her."

"I hope so. He comes and goes. Maybe he'd be more inclined to stick around with a pretty young lady in town. I know I would be, heh."

We met each other's gaze for a brief moment, then looked away. Those butterflies were stirring up a storm in my stomach. Heat rose from my cheeks.

Hancock cleared his throat. "Look, if you got a sec, I need you to hear something."

"Sure. Let's go sit down." I walked him over to the Red Rocket Station's front wall and had a seat on the ground with my back leaned up against it. He followed suit. The dog sat down in front of us, panting happily. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, yeah. Better than that, actually. This is just . . . tricky. It's just being out here with you, it's made me realize. Most of my life to this point, I've been running out on all the good things I got. I skipped out on my family, my life in Diamond City. Took up with you just to get outta Goodneighbor. Hell, running from myself is what made me into . . . a damn ghoul. But being here with you, for the first time in my life, things have just felt . . . right. And running, it's the furthest thing from my mind. But whether it's fate, or destiny, or just goddamn coincidence, I ended up with someone like you."

I blushed and looked out at the clouds.

"I turned one of the nastiest settlements in the Commonwealth into a refuge for the lost. I thought I'd done something I could hang my hat on. But being out here with you made me realize just how small-time I was thinkin'. And that maybe all that running, from my life, from myself . . . Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all."

I fidgeted with the laces on my boots. "What do you mean, 'running from yourself?'"

"Well, I mean, I didn't always look this good. The drug that did this to me, that made me a ghoul, I knew what it was going to do. I just couldn't stand looking at the bastard I saw in the mirror anymore. The coward that let all those ghouls from Diamond City die. Who was too scared to protect his fellow drifters from Vic and his boys. If I took it, I'd never have to look at him again. I could put it all behind me. I'd be free. Didn't seem like a choice at all. Turns out it was just me runnin' from something else in my life."

I sighed. "And how long will it be before you abandon me, too?" I didn't even mean for it to come out that way, but it did, and I winced, hoping I didn't hit a nerve.

He just eased himself into a cross-legged position and leaned over with his elbows on his knees. He gave me a stern look. "Hey, if things keep going the way they're going, you've got nothing to worry about. So lemme get to the point. Throwing in with you has been the best decision I've ever made. It's like I found a part of myself that I never realized was missing . . . which sometimes happens when you're a ghoul. If I hadn't taken up with you, I'd probably be in the gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by radroaches. You have been one hell of a friend."

"Have you ever . . . " I bit my lip.

". . . What?"

"Nothing. Nevermind." In all the time I had known Hancock, I had tried to fight off this feeling. I didn't even want to _think_ the words I was about to say. I was just . . . scared.

"No, come on, tell me. I just spilled my guts out to you. Least you could do is finish what you were gonna say."

The dog put her head in my lap and whined for attention. I patted her head and her tail wagged excitedly. I looked her in the eyes and mentally asked, _should I ask him?_ As if she was going to answer me. Thing is, I didn't believe in God anymore. He didn't save me at the end of the world, He didn't spare my husband, He didn't keep Kellogg from kidnapping Shaun, and He didn't help me in this wasteland when I needed it the most. Surely He wouldn't answer a silly question like that.

I just sighed and tightly shut my eyes and looked away from Hancock's direction. "Have you ever thought about us as . . . more than . . . friends?"

There was a long silence. My heart felt like it was going to explode. My palms were sweating. Then he just chuckled softly.

"It that obvious?"

I slowly turned to look at him. He was gazing at the ground as if deep in thought before he met my eyes.

"But come on, you don't wanna wake up to this ugly mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for."

"I'm _trusting_ you on this, Hancock . . . Should I?"

"I ain't got an escape route planned, if that's what you're asking. Right now, this is exactly where I need to be."

I breathed deeply. Was I even ready for this? Everything that's going on with the Institute. With my son . . . And didn't I still miss Nate?

 _Have I even thought about Nate recently?_

I cleared my throat. "I don't mean to sound . . . presumptuous . . . but I don't want to jump into this too quickly. This is all very new to me and I – I just . . ."

"No worries, relax. We'll talk more about it when it's not so crazy out here. I'm looking forward to that talk, mind you." He smirked. "Heh. You know, moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky."

I blushed. "Thank you, Hancock. For everything."

"Come on. Let's get this freakshow on the road."

"Let's." I stood up and dusted myself off. "We should show Isabella her new home."

"Isabella, huh?" He gave the dog a grin. "Pretty name for a pretty dog."

I had to fill in the details on the Institute infultration mission on the way back to Sanctuary. It wasn't far, just down the road and across the bridge, and we were at its gates. Isabella was extremely happy with her new home. Lots of people to play with, lots of room to run around. She was already sniffing around Sturges' toolbox on the carport for something to chew on.

I went back to my house for a few moments to gear up. I was sporting my Minuteman General coat today, hat included. I had to put the hat in my bag because I planned on using a suit of power armor to enter the sewer system to the Institute. I strapped on my two pistols – the one Deacon gave me, and the one I looted from Kellogg – and loaded up some extra 10mm rounds and .44 rounds. I couldn't take much with me in my bag due to the underwater travel, so my hat, ammo, and a few stimpaks were all I left in there.

Hancock cast a shadow on the floor from the open doorway.

"I hope you can swim," I jested.

"Don't you worry about me. Once swam across the river 'cause I saw a chem dealer on the other side."

"I'd feel better if you'd just use my extra suit of power armor."

"I'll think about it, but I don't really like the whole armor thing . . ."

I shrugged. I grabbed my bag and walked out with him. MacCready met us at Sturges' next to the power armor. Preston and Sturges soon met up with us.

"I'll be there, too," said MacCready. "Count on it."

"Us, too, General," said Preston. "We'll have soldiers ready to deploy as soon as you give us the signal."

"And don't think I'm missing out on all this fun," Sturges chimed in. "I never get out of the house."

"You guys . . . I appreciate everything you've done for me. You're the best friends I could ever ask for." I hugged MacCready. Then I hugged Preston and Sturges simultaneously with my arms around their shoulders. "You've done so much for me. I won't forget this. Hancock and I are going to head out."

"Keep an eye on her," said MacCready to Hancock.

"Always," he said with sincerity and gave MacCready a handshake-slash-hug.

As we made our way out of Sanctuary, we passed Mama Murphy's house before we left. I could hear the radio playing inside, so I knew she was up. I knocked on the door. It took her a while to answer, but when she did, she greeted us with a smile.

"I knew you would come to see me before you went off to stick it to the Institute, kid."

"I couldn't leave without saying goodbye."

"Oh, you'll make it back in one piece, kid. I'm sure of it. Come on in."

"We can't stay too long, Mama Murphy," I explained as we stepped into the living room.

"That's okay. You need the Sight today? It _is_ a big day, after all."

Hancock was a fan of chems, so he shouldn't have any problem with me giving some to Mama Murphy. "Eh, what do you need today?"

"We're gonna need a heavy hitter for the Sight to keep working, kid. Buttout oughta do it."

Hancock raised his eyebrows. "A little old lady like you hitting buffout? Seems a little extreme . . ."

"Trust me, the Sight knows what it needs to paint a clear picture." She took a seat in her chair. "Let's do this."

I hesitantly headed back toward the door to get a buffout pill from my house. I brought it back and held it to her in the center of my palm. "Here. Go _easy_."

She took it from me and dry swallowed it with no water.

She coughed. "Wow, forgot how strong that stuff is. Whew. Okay . . . here it comes . . . I see you surrounded by outstretched hands. Everyone needs your help, kid. Everyone wants you to see things their way. And whether you want it or not . . . you're gonna have to decide which ways of life keep going in the Commonwealth, and which end." She coughed harder than usual this time. "Oh, sorry, kid," she said while gasping for breath. "Old ticker just lurched there a few times."

"I told you to go easy, Mama Murphy. Couldn't you have just . . . cut it in half or something?"

"Nonsense, kid. I'm fine. Really. Just need to stay still."

"I'm impressed, really," Hancock muttered.

We bid Mama Murphy goodbye.

"Take care of yourself, dear."

I talked Hancock into suiting up in some power armor before we left.

"Whoa. Is it supposed to make you feel this weightless? Holy hell."

"Yep." I stepped into my own power armor. "It's very helpful."

"I haven't felt this weightless since I took five hits of jet within a two-minute interval."

* * *

The walk to the CIT ruins was long, but didn't leave me feeling as tired as last time, thanks to the power armor. I was in a hurry. With the Castle's defenses in shambles, they could attack at any minute. I wanted to make sure that we could get to them before they decided to get to us again. I didn't think we could hold off another attack. At least, not at the moment.

We went past College Square, Cambridge Police Station, Fraternal Post 115 . . . We didn't talk much, mostly because we were both deep in thought and nervous about actually going inside the Institute. Hancock finally spoke up.

"You think they'd make ghoul synths?"

"Nah, I don't think so. The way Father – er, Shaun – described it leads me to believe your DNA would be too contaminated to use. Besides, they're not a fan of ghouls."

"Not many people are."

"I'm a fan of ghouls," I half-cheered playfully.

"I'll make you a club jacket."

I rolled my eyes at him.

We came upon the river by Cambridge Polymer Labs. Just another block down and we would find ourselves at the CIT ruins.

"We're almost there. You nervous?"

"Yeah."

"Don't be. You've got this. We're gonna kick their asses."

The entrance to the sewer system was underneath an old police station. We jumped off the side of the stone fence surrounding the sidewalk there and landed right in the river. We turned on our headlamps and walked slowly through the murky, irradiated water, through the huge pipe's entrance.

It wasn't as long of a walk as I thought it was going to be. Sturges' drawing depicted a longer tunnel. Maybe he was referring to this intricate tunnel system. The first thing I noticed after walking out of the water and up the stone stairs was that this room was indeed used as the sewer systems back in the day. We were directly underneath the old police station now.

I hacked a terminal on the wall to my left and got into the security room beyond it. There wasn't much inside. Some tape, glue, tools, a work desk. We did find a trunk with extra ammo in it, though, so that was something. I reentered the other room and found a keypad on the door. I used the code on the holotape that Sturges gave me.

I was puzzled when I didn't hear a lock click or a door open or any signal at all indicating that the code worked.

"Must be in another room," said Hancock.

We went back into the murky water and found the tunnel to the left. It looked like the water was flowing. I couldn't see in front of my face. My headlamp's light glared off of the flowing water. I tried to feel around, but I was more stiff in the power armor. Next thing we knew, we fell straight down the pipe.

We landed about fifteen feet below with a loud thud, the weight of our armor shaking the tunnel. We quickly got up and searched the area. There were no live hostiles, nor synths, but there were two armed laser turrets awaiting us at the end of the tunnel. Their blue lasers clearly gave away their ownership. The lasers tore at our power armor, burned holes in the arms and legs. We tried to shoot them down as quickly as possible.

Around the left corner was yet another human-sized pipe. At least this one wasn't completely underwater. It was about knee-deep and our headlamps illuminated it perfectly. At first, I thought it was a dead end, stopping at the grating in front of us. Then, the difference on the wall to my left caught my eye. It was a hatch made to look similar to the rest of the pipe. We entered it, and on the other side was a room full of rusted chain-link fencing and old power sources that were no longer functioning. There was a stairway leading up.

It led into a workroom of some sort. There was a hardhat on a shelf, a few wrenches and screw drivers, some metal desks, a workbench – none of this stuff looked like Institute tech. Sturges wasn't kidding when he said it was old.

We continued down more stairs and into another watery hallway underneath complex pipe systems. It went on like that for what felt like forever. Then, out of nowhere, we were surrounded by feral ghouls. They couldn't tell Hancock apart from a regular human past his power armor, so we were both getting attacked. Our armor was getting fucked up, badly. There had to have been twelve run at us at once from all different directions in the tunnels. Each ghoul that appeared was roughly more hard to kill than the last. Withered ghouls and glowing ones came at us at the end of the horde, scratching and scraping our helmets and chest plates.

Once we were finally free of them, we continued on quickly to the next tunnels. There we came to a wall with a door and terminal. On the wall was a massive hole where the brick crumbled and decayed over time. It was too small for us to fit inside, though. Inside were two synths talking to each other. I assumed they were both synths, but one was Gen-2, the other possibly Gen-3 or non-synth.

"Progress report?" asked the woman.

The Gen-2 synth replied in it's high-pitched robotic voice. "Proper repairs are necessary to ensure it does not reoccur."

"Position cannot be properly defended. Haste is necessary."

"'Defended?'" whispered Hancock. "Did they know we were coming?"

"I wouldn't doubt it," I whispered back with a hint of loathing.

"Continue repairs immediately," said the woman. "Potential exposure is ill-advised."

"Fault is a class 2 stress fracture. Repair protocol cannot be rushed."

She sighed. "Area scans incomplete. Insufficient determination of possible threats. Time is critical."

"Interruptions do not hasten progress."

"Leaving this area at once is recommended."

I sneaked over to the terminal on the wall and hacked it as quickly as I could without being detected. When the door opened, we drew our weapons and sneaked into the room with the synths. Up ahead, we found Institute rifles, ammo, and cryo grenades laying on the table, as if they were prepared for an attack but left their weapons unattended carelessly.

We took what we could afford to take.

Further inside, we spotted the two synths and stealthily shot them down. We made our way through the pipe on the other side of the room, closed the hatch behind us, and ran through the knee-high water to what we hoped was the Institute.

* * *

We had arrived in the Relay room that I had entered the first time around. Had I known the exit was that close . . .

I quickly exited my power armor and inserted the Institute Relay targeting sequence holotape into the computer terminal to activate the Relay code for Preston, Sturges, and the other Minutemen to get inside.

As quick as I ejected the tape, blue lights started appearing in the circular Relay room in front of me.

"Man, that was somethin' else . . ." said Preston.

"That. Was. Weird." MacCready rubbed his head.

"I'm still in one piece. Everybody else make it?"

"Affirmative," said Sturges.

More Minutemen were still appearing behind them in the Relay room.

"I'm impressed," said Hancock.

"So this is the Institute." Preston eyeballed the white, plastic-like room with its flashing lights and buttons and computers. "They could have held out down here forever. Why they'd need to come mess with us, I'll never know."

"I don't care why they did," I said without emotion. "They're gonna pay."

"You're damn right they are," Preston agreed. "In any case, here we are. No turning back now. You're gonna need this." He handed me something small and metal. "It's a fusion pulse charge. Attach it to the Institute's reactor and we can detonate it remotely. We can trigger an explosion that'll destroy everything the Institute ever built. Just make sure we give the civilians a chance to escape before we blow the place. We're not here to commit mass murder."

I had never thought about the casualties before. In my mind, it was as simple as snapping your fingers, and a whole faction disappears off the face of the earth. Now that Preston had mentioned it, I needed to be thinking about what I wanted to do with the people that didn't want to fight . . .

"We'd better hurry. They're going to realize what's going on before too long."

"Let's kick some as- er, some butt," said MacCready. He slung the sniper rifle off his shoulder and checked its chamber.

"Let's do this," said Hancock.

I nodded. "They're going to wish they were never born."

"Sturges, get to work on that teleporter of theirs," Preston instructed. "We need to get out of here as soon as possible. Pull us back up as soon as we give the signal. And anyone from the Institute who wants out, you let 'em go, as long as they aren't shooting at you."

"You got it, boss," said Sturges. He immediately got to work on the terminal. "Don't worry. I've got things under control here. You guys just focus on getting that charge planted.

The alarm started blaring overhead suddenly, and orange warning lights were flashing on the walls. We rushed down the stairs, took a left by the main elevator, and went into a side door labeled "Old Robotics."

* * *

There were synths on us within moments. We all worked together to fight through the horde. I hacked the terminal to turn off most of the laser turrets, MacCready took out the remaining turrets with his sniper, Preston threw grenades at the bulk of the synths, and Hancock inspired the other Minutemen to dive in head-first and tear them apart.

On and on the halls of the Old Robotics section went, until we came to a door that said "Bioscience."

Inside, most of the Institute scientists were hiding under cover, cowering in our presence. And they should have. But more than that, there were green, lush plants everywhere in large planters. On the other side of a glass wall, there were gorillas. Actual gorillas. Looking closer, however, the label on the wall said "Synth Gorilla Experiment 1.2."

The beauty of it all didn't last very long. Synths teleported straight into the room, laser turrets came out of the ceiling, the gorillas were set loose upon us . . .

Not long after chaos ensued, everything was quiet again. The amount of Minutemen Preston brought along with him was no joke. We were wiping the floor with these Institute bastards.

 _Wait. Bioscience . . ._

"Preston, I need you and MacCready to go into the main hall and start fighting your way through. Take every last man with you. Hancock and I will go this way, toward the older wing."

"By yourselves? Are you crazy?"

"There's something I need to do. I made a promise."

Hancock followed me to the older wing and waited for me to pick the lock. Inside, a tesla trap almost electrocuted us. There were booby traps all throughout the older Bioscience wing. But I was determined to get Vigril's serum.

Deep inside the halls, past the laser trip wires and machine gun turrets, there were these little rooms with windows on the walls. Inside were different types of toys on the floor of each room. I was confused as to what they were for. I spotted a dead super mutant inside of one of the rooms. Beside him lay a toy truck, a toy car . . . and a dead cat.

That's when I noticed the other dead cats and mystery meat littering the floor ahead. My stomach turned. There were even dead cats piled up in little wooden boxes. Were they brought down here as food for the experimental super mutants, or did the super mutants kill each live cat that entered their room? There were dead synths all throughout the halls, too. I wondered what had killed them. Surely not their own turrets.

Past the terminal down the hall that I managed to hack was the room that contained what shocked me the most.

There were super mutants inside, suspended in these giant glass tubes, from floor to ceiling, suspended in water. The tubes housed a glowing green light on the bottom of each tank. I knew then that this was Virgil's lab.

"Search for anything that might belong to Virgil," I told Hancock.

"Hey, what about this?" He picked up a holotape that was labeled "FEV Research Notes."

"Perfect. Now to find the serum." I didn't really know what I was looking for, but the only thing I found even remotely close to what I was expecting was a large metal vial, almost as big around as my arm, in a container of sorts. I pressed "eject" on the container, and it slid out with ease. Thank goodness it wasn't made of glass, because I doubted a glass container would have made the trip out of the Institute.

"Now, let's get out of here," said Hancock. "This place is all sorts of messed up . . ."

* * *

We made it back through the Old Bioscience area and into the main chamber of the Institute, where I had seen the beautiful waterfall and the green trees. Although, it wasn't so beautiful now. Now, the bodies of synths and Minutemen soldiers alike were laying on the green grass, turning it red with blood and black with oil. Preston and MacCready were both still alive, as I had hoped. We joined them in the firefight.

"General! We managed to take out two coursers, but they just released a special unit they call 'XPN-20A!' We need backup!"

"I'm on it!" I ran headfirst into the fray. I didn't know which one was XPN-20A, but I tackled the synth with the fancy helmet, and that seemed to do the trick. He started firing at me with his laser rifle, point blank in the face. My helmet couldn't take much more. I could barely see, now. I reached down and grabbed hold of the synth's throat and dug my armored fingers into it. I ripped out as many cords and connectors as I could find, and the synth's body went limp.

By this point, my power armor was fucked. I ditched it and ran to the elevator. It wouldn't work. I checked all the doors, and none of them were open. We were trapped in there with all those synths and coursers . . .

"Hey there, General," said Sturges over a loudspeaker.

I cracked a smile. Sturges, come to save the day, again.

"Found the reactor. Looks like you need to get yourselves to the Advanced Systems area. Only, well, it's locked."

I slapped my forehead.

"I can't override it from here; looks like the command can only come from the Director's personal terminal. You're gonna need to get access to it somehow."

His voice went silent and the lasers and bullets were still flying. I was standing out in the open after making my way around the room to check for a working door. A laser got me in the leg. My knee buckled and I hit the floor. I quickly scrambled for cover to dig through my bag for a stimpak. One left . . . I jammed it into my leg by the wound and let it heal up. Then I started firing with the rest of my allies. Once we cleared them all out, I searched for a way into Father's chambers.


	25. Ch 25: Carry On, My Wayward Son

**Chapter 25**

 **Carry on, my Wayward Son**

* * *

"Of course you can come with me, Hancock. I might need the support . . ."

Hancock had ditched his power armor, too. Looks like I was going to have to find more. I was weak in the knees. Not only was I completely exhausted, but I was nervous about seeing my son again. I was destroying everything that he had worked so hard for and everything that he represented. The empire upon which he stood was the entire reason I lost him those sixty years ago.

Sturges got the elevator working again. We entered and went down one floor. There was another long hallway in front of us. I recognized this hallway . . . I knew that if I continued down, there'd be a right turn, and at the end of the hall was an elevator . . .

And there it was. I took a deep breath to steady myself.

Hancock's warm hand touched my shoulder. "You've got this."

I nodded and took the first step into the next elevator. We went up about three floors, and it opened for us. Inside was the first bit of Father's chambers, the part that I was allowed into when I arrived. We walked past the child synth's glass room. The child was missing from it. Further inside the room and up the stairs, we found Father, lying in a bed.

"I didn't expect to see you again." He spoke in a low voice, almost a whisper. "I don't suppose you're here because you've changed your mind." There was something different about him this time, like the light in his eyes were growing dim.

"What's happened to you? Are you sick?" I asked without thinking. Motherly instincts never die, I suppose.

"Don't pretend to care now. You had your chance to help me, and you cast me aside instead. It's not enough that I lay here dying, and now you plan on what? Destroying everything? Tell me, then. Under what righteous pretense have you justified this atrocity?"

"Seriously? All the enemies you've created, and you can't imagine why I'd be standing here?"

"Perhaps I didn't think to count you among them . . . Well, none of it matters now, I suppose. You'll accomplish your task and ruin humanity's best hope for the future. The only question left, then, is why you're standing here. Is it regret, or did you just come to gloat?"

His words stung. Why _was_ I standing there? Why was I so concerned? Maybe I had a small hope that _he_ would be the one to change his mind. "Shaun, I – I hoped there was something more I could do. I wanted to save you. There's still time to change your – "

"This isn't some fairy tale, mother."

My heart lurched. He called me his mother . . .

"There's no saving me. I'm dying, and you're going to destroy everything I've ever loved. You're going to have to live with that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to be alone for my last few moments. Go, do what you must. But I hope someday you realize what will be lost here." His words were laced with venom.

"Son . . ."

"Just . . . get out. There's nothing more to say."

"Shaun, I'm just so sorry it had to come to this."

"It's too late to be sorry. Just leave me."

Hancock put a hand on my shoulder.

I turned to him, his face pained. "Nora. I'm sorry, but . . . we've gotta move."

"I wish there was some other way," I whispered with a shaky voice.

He nodded. "I know."

Then, I took a breath to steady myself and moved away from Father to find his terminal. It was by the wall behind him on a desk. "I need the password."

"Lemme look around," said Hancock.

We searched for a few moments in his desk but couldn't find it. "I can't crack this terminal without a password. It's impossible. Ugh! Damn Institute tech . . ."

Shaun's voice came feeble and quiet. "Second drawer . . . by the desk . . ."

Hancock quickly rummaged through the second drawer of a small office cabinet by his desk. "Got it."

I breathed, "Thank you, son."

I entered the password quickly. I clicked on "Engage Evacuation Protocol BD-2" and a robotic female voice came on overhead, telling all Institute scientists to evacuate the premises immediately. Next, I clicked on "Director Access: Synth Shutdown" but it wouldn't authorize without the Director's code. Lastly, I clicked on "Master Security Lockdown Override" so that the doors would unlock again.

I took one last look at Shaun before I left. His eyes were closed, like he was sleeping. He didn't even look angry anymore. He looked peaceful.

Hancock pulled on my hand. "Nora."

"Right. Right." I turned away from Shaun and left him once more. Whether he was dead now or not, I knew what his fate was, and it pained me.

As we rushed down the stairs, Sturges came back overhead. "Alright, good job! Looks like that opened things up enough for you to reach the reactor. Some other good news: I've almost got the teleporter working. Should be ready to pull you out whenever you need."

"Sturges, you amazing son of a bitch," Hancock muttered on our way down a set of spiral stairs that just became available to us after the lockdown was lifted.

As soon as we got to the bottom floor, a synth was already attacking us. We wound up fighting our way through Advanced Systems. Preston and MacCready met us at the door.

"Glad to see you're in one piece," said MacCready.

"Me too . . ."

As we walked into the far room of Advanced Systems, Preston stopped us.

"This must be the reactor. We'll cover you while you plant the charge. Remember, we only get one shot at this. Good luck."

I nodded.

The fight was gruesome. As I made a beeline down the hall, I realized that it would be damn near impossible for me to get there on my own, with or without cover. The laser turrets seemed endless. There were at least two more special unit synths after us, and at least fifteen other synths. More of our Minutemen were dying by the moment, and we were almost out of ammo and frag grenades.

Once we were to the reactor, all that was left to do was to walk up these spiraling stairs and across a metal grate. I tried to make a run for it, but I was shot down, literally. A laser pierced me right through my side, front to back. I felt to my knees and held onto the bloodied fabric that was my General Uniform.

"Damn it," I breathed, trying not to throw up. I crawled behind cover of the stairs. It wasn't much cover, but it was something. I aimed my gun at the head of two synths who had caught onto where I was hiding and blew their heads off. After they were down, I stumbled to my feet, holding my side, and ran up the stairs. I looked below and saw a courser pursuing me. He shot off his laser right into my left shoulder.

"NNGH!" I almost fell, but I wouldn't let myself this time. I turned around and started firing the last few bullets I had left into the courser's eyes. He didn't last long after MacCready caught sight of us having it out and placed a few more bullets into the courser's temple with his sniper.

Everything was starting to calm down, but there were still a few hostiles left. I was at the terminal, ready to open the reactor door. Yet another terminal that required a password.

"Nora, how's it going up there?" yelled Preston from below, who had just shoved the bayonet of his laser musket into the neck of a Gen-2 synth.

"I need the password!"

Preston and Hancock started searching the bodies and found the password on one of the special unit synths. Hancock ran it up to me. "Nora, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just give me the password."

He handed it to me, then started rummaging through the bag on my back for a stimpak.

"Don't bother, I used my last one earlier."

"Shit . . ."

"The sooner I get this over with, the better." I entered the code into the terminal. I clicked on "Reactor Status." The radiation levels inside were listed as "high." I clicked on "Initiate Reactor Shutdown Sequence" anyway. I slowly walked my way over to the reactor and opened the door. The wave of radiation that hit me was damn near enough to knock me off my feet. I doubled over as the radiation burned at my skin. The reactor was shining a bright blue, almost like a flow of water combined with electricity. I looked in my pocket for the charge and reached inside the reactor. My skin felt like it was peeling off just reaching into it.

"Nora, stop!" Hancock yanked my whole body away from the reactor's door and took the charge from me. "Why didn't you tell me it was irradiated?!" He popped the charge on the reactor and shut the door.

"We need to get out of here, and fast," said Preston. "Sturges, are you hearing me? We're done down here. Zap us back to the Relay room."

I sat on the metal grating with little to no energy left in my body. I glanced down at my hands and could see the radiation burns and flaky skin.

"Damn it, Nora," said MacCready as he caught up to us by the stairs.

A zap of light took us all back to the Relay room then. Everything went bright, then dark, then settled into the Relay room. Hancock helped me up so I could walk.

"Sturges, get us out of here!" said Preston.

"I would, man, but . . . this kid showed up. Says he's the General's son."

I was too week to form an expression of shock. "What?"

Hancock helped me into the terminal room where Sturges was, and sure enough, there was a little boy with dark brown hair. Like his father's. It was the synth from Father's room from before.

"Please, mom! Don't leave me here! I wanna go with you!"

"Why did you call me 'mom' just now?"

"What? You're my mother! Why else would I call you that?"

"Who told you I was your mother?"

"What do you mean? Nobody told me, you just are."

I looked back from Hancock to Shaun, to Preston to Shaun, to Sturges to Shaun. Whether he was really my son or not, I couldn't condemn him to death, especially at such a young age. Everyone was standing around me, waiting for me to answer. I took so long, they all probably thought I was going to leave him there.

Without thinking, I muttered, "Oh, this is just what I need right now . . ."

"I'm not a baby! I'm old enough to take care of myself. The only help I need is to get out of here. Now, can we _please_ go?"

"All right, you . . . can come with me."

"Really? Do you mean it?"

"What, you don't believe me?"

"No, no, I totally do! What I mean is, thanks. Now let's get out of here!"

"All right, Sturges . . . fire it up."

"Didn't leave anything behind, did you? All set to get out of here?"

I checked my bag for Virgil's serum. "Absolutely. Let's get the hell out of here."

"You got it! I'm sending you to the detonation site, then set the Relay to shoot the kid here back to the Castle. You press that button extra hard when you get there. See you on the other side."

I adjusted myself on Hancock's shoulder and grabbed at my side with my good arm. I looked down at the little ten-year-old in front of me. "Shaun, Sturges is sending you to my fort. It's called the Castle. Lots of good people there that will take care of you, okay? I'll meet you there."

"When?"

"I'll see you first thing tomorrow. I promise."

"Okay. As long as you promise."

* * *

Hancock set me down on top of a building where we landed. Preston and MacCready followed shortly behind. Sturges was last to follow and the few Minutemen that we had left. I rubbed my head lightly; it was pounding. Then, a clump of my hair came out, and I had a small panic attack.

"Hancock, am I – ?"

"No, Nora. You're not turning into a ghoul. We need to get you some radaway, pronto, or else you might be growing an extra limb here soon."

MacCready took his bag off his back and looked through it for some radaway and some water. "Here, I've got some supplies on me. Can't believe you two went in there so unprepared."

"It was underwater," I clarified weakly.

"Alright, alright, who's ready to blow this thing up?" asked Sturges. He was so excited, his country accent was more noticeable than usual.

"Sturges thought this would be far away enough from the blast radius," said Preston. "Whenever you wanna see 'humanity's best hope for the future' go up in smoke, you just hit that button."

Sturges handed me the remote detonator. "You should do the honors."

For a moment, I thought about Father. My real son. It was a fleeting moment. It was gone within seconds, and I felt nothing. With the press of this button, all the remnants of my old life would be gone.

With all the strength I had left, I smashed my fist onto that big red button. A few seconds later, there was a rumble underneath our feet. Out in the distance where the CIT ruins were, a huge blue light formed from the building and grew as big as a blimp. Then, after a flash of white light, it exploded into a cloud of fire. It leveled the buildings around it, and the CIT ruins didn't even exist anymore. There was smoke rising up from the entire city below us as the shock waves rushed through the air and the ground like a miniature earthquake.

It was a sight to see.

"Holy shit," muttered Preston as the smoke and dust settled on the city below. "That was a hell of a bang, wasn't it? So, that's it. The Institute is destroyed. It's finally over. You did issue the evacuation order right? I didn't notice in all the chaos."

I nodded.

"Good. I thought so. It was just . . . watching that explosion . . . I just hope as many people as possible got out. I hate that we had to do that, but they left us no choice. It was war. And now, the war against the Institute is over. The way's now clear for the Commonwealth to finally come together and build something good for the future. But it's not all sunshine and rainbows from here on out."

"Of course. The Institute wasn't the Commonwealth's only problem. We've still got plenty to do."

"Couldn't have said it better myself, General."

"There's always someone out to make life harder for folks who are just tryin' to survive. I'm not willing to stand for that kind of shit," said Hancock.

"The Institute was the most insidious threat we've ever faced," Preston continued. "They kept the Commonwealth divided for centuries. But there are plenty of other problems left to deal with. I don't think the Minutemen are gonna be out of the job for a long time yet, as much as I might wish it. We deserve to enjoy our victory, but soon enough it's gonna be time to get back to work."

MacCready scoffed. "Preston, lighten the hell up. We're going to go back to Nora's and party."

"Drinks, chems, girls, good music, and good friends. What more could a hero ask for?" Hancock chuckled.

"Maybe a little less girls and a lot more booze?" I added.

"Right, right, I forgot."

"Forgot what?" asked MacCready. "What are you on about?"

Then, my vision faded. I lost control of my body, my limbs, everything. My head hit the hard concrete of the building's rooftop. The last thing I heard was the far away echoes of concerned voices shouting my name.

* * *

I moved around comfortably in what felt like a bed with warm blankets. Sunshine was shining through my window. For a moment, I thought that the last few months were just a horrible nightmare, and I'd find myself back in my prewar home with Codsworth making breakfast and Shaun cooing in his crib across the hall. But no. I wasn't that stupid or that naive.

I didn't want to open my eyes. I had rested so well. Where was I? When I finally got the courage to open my eyes, I could see that I was in my own room. Someone put a bed in my room. An actual bed frame and mattress and blankets. The sunshine was pouring through the windows. I tried to sit up, but my leg was stuck under something heavy and warm. It was Dogmeat and Isabella lying on the bed with me.

Dogmeat barked happily when he noticed that I was awake. I reached down slowly and petted him. My shoulder and my side was very sore. Someone had bandaged them up, though. I was also wearing something different. My Minutemen General uniform was laying in a chair across from my bed. Dogmeat continued to bark, and I heard footsteps coming into the house.

"Shh!" I hissed at Dogmeat, and he instantly laid his head down and whined. I laid back down, too and closed my eyes, pretending to be asleep. I wanted to see what exactly was going on here.

The bedroom door opened. "What's goin' on, boy?" said the familiar gruff voice of Hancock. I heard him walk toward the bed. There was movement where Dogmeat was laying, indicating that Hancock was petting him.

I peeked through my eyelashes. He had walked in the room with yellow flowers – wild carrot flowers, I thought – in his hands. He exchanged some dead ones in the vase with the fresh ones. He sighed heavily as he tossed the dead flowers into the little trash can there. They landed with a dry-sounding shift on top of something that sounded like more flowers. How many dead flowers were there?

"I wish you'd wake up. I'm beginning to wonder if you ever will." I heard him take a seat in the chair and breathe in a deep breath through his nose hole, and exhale heavily out his mouth.

I tried not to grin. It got deathly quiet in the room as the corners of my mouth started rising on their own.

". . . Nora? Are you . . . awake?"

"No."

Hancock stood up so fast, he knocked the chair back. "Nora! You asshole! How long have you been awake?!"

I laughed weakly. "Just a few minutes."

He wrapped his arms around me. "Don't ever do that again! That's not funny!"

I hugged him back, but my arm stung as I pulled his shoulder into mine. "Ow."

"Oh, damn, I forgot. You ain't even completely healed yet."

"I feel like shit."

"You sure don't look it, though," Hancock said softly, brushing my shaggy blonde hair aside on my cheek.

I blushed at his touch. Then my eyes went wide as I remembered my hair. "Oh, my god, Hancock, my hair fell out."

He chuckled. "Yeah, your hair fell out. It'll grow back. It's just a little patchy."

I groaned. "I'm just going to have to shave my head and start all over again."

"Whatever you wanna do."

"What time is it?" I searched for my pip-boy and found it on the nightstand beside my bed. The clock said it was almost one in the afternoon.

"Don't you mean, 'what day is it?' You've been in a coma."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, about a week now."

I checked my pip-boy again, and there it was. "March 6th, 2278? Wow. I really was out for a week . . ."

"You had me worried there. You had all of us worried."

"Sorry. I'll try not to go into a coma again anytime soon."

"You'd better. It was from a combination of a loss of blood, exhaustion, and radiation poisoning. Besides that, you hit your head pretty hard when you passed out."

"Damn. That's why I've got a headache."

"You just try to rest some more."

"No, I need to get up, or I'm going to go insane."

"Fine. It'll give you a chance to properly greet your son."

"Oh." I had forgotten about the little synth boy that we rescued from the Institute. The one who called me his mother.

Hancock helped me up. I found that I was wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of military pants and off-white socks with a hole on the bottom. I didn't even wanna know who dressed me. I slipped my shoes on and laced them up. I grabbed a coat from my couch in the living room and headed outside. The sun stung my eyes.

"Someone needs to turn that thing down," I muttered.

Hancock smiled. "My thoughts exactly."

There was a little boy with dark brown hair and a striped T-shirt and blue-jean pants playing at Sturges' workshop. Sturges seemed to be enjoying his company. When he caught sight of me, he jumped up and abandoned his items.

"Mom! Mom! You're awake!"

"Y-yeah, I'm awake."

"Oh, my gosh. I was so worried." He threw his arms around my waist, nearly knocking me down. Hancock steadied me. "You look sad," he noted, looking up at me.

"What? Why do you say that?"

"You just do. I . . . didn't disappoint you, did I?"

"Why would you think that? You haven't done anything."

"I just wanted to come with you. I didn't want to stay at the Institute without you. I don't want you to think I'm being a burden or anything. I can take care of myself. I'll stay out of your way."

I leaned down and put my hands on his little shoulders. "Listen. Everything is fine. We're going to be fine. Don't you worry. You don't disappoint me." I gave him a hug.

"I love you, Mom. I'm so glad you're feeling better."

A lump caught in my throat. I was so confused. I didn't know how to feel. But my heart was swelling for this child.

"I'm going to steal your mom for a few minutes, kiddo," said Hancock.

"Okay. Bring her home by seven."

"Oh, listen to you," he chuckled. Hancock steered me in the direction of the gate. "No more Institute, huh? Never thought I'd see the day. You did damn good."

"Me? You all helped. I'd never have been able to do it if it wasn't for you and Sturges and everyone else."

"The Minutemen took another big hit that day. Lots of lives lost . . ."

"Yeah . . ."

"Speaking of lives lost. I've gotta tell you something." He got all serious. His brow furrowed. "It's about Mama Murphy."

"What?"

"She asked for some psycho a few days ago . . . I gave it to her. She said she wanted to give you 'one last Sight.' In her vision, she saw you standing with the People, working together. United. She saw a land filled with hope again. She saw the brave stepping forward and the People losing their fear. She called you a hero. A symbol for a better world. Then . . . she looked me in the eyes and said, 'I saw this coming.' She chuckled. Then, she just . . . grabbed her chest and . . ."

"She had a heart attack?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it – it's all my fault. I'm sorry, Nora."

"No, it's not. I mean, it was her choice to keep taking them. She always asked me for chems, and I always gave the to her. I'm sure I didn't help matters along."

He sighed. "You missed out on a lot the last week. We had a burial for her and marked her grave. Shaun has settled in pretty nicely, though. So has Isabelle. You kind of missed out on the celebration after we beat the Institute, though."

"Seriously?"

He laughed softly. "Nah, I'm just messin' with ya. We only had a few beers. Didn't wanna properly celebrate without ya."

I shoved his arm.

"Mama Murphy did teach me one thing from her vision, though."

"What's that?"

We stopped in the road a few feet away from the gate. "That you're the best thing that ever happened to me. You're a woman of the People, for the People. And I dig that."

I gave him a little smirk. "Might even give you a run for your money as mayor of Goodneighbor one day."

"I don't doubt it."

"When are you going back?"

He looked ominously at the gate to the bridge. "Now, actually."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, Preston says I gotta leave since I killed Mama Murphy. He only let me stay this long 'cause you were in a coma. Said as soon as you woke up, I gotta hit the road. Pushy goody two-shoes . . ."

"Why do you have to leave just because he says so?"

"Eh, this ain't my town. Ain't my rules. You guys play a whole other ballgame here."

I grumbled.

"Come see me there soon, and we'll talk more about . . . us."

"I would like that." I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, but the corners of our mouths brushed together briefly. He turned his head a little to meet my lips, then pulled away.

"I don't wanna make you uncomfortable or anything. I know, I'm not the most good lookin' guy."

"Oh, shut up, Hancock." I pulled him to me by his collar and planted a kiss on his lips. He deepened the kiss by pulling me closer to him. "Ow." His hand was on my wound on my side.

"Sorry, sorry. You're getting' me all hot and bothered, heh heh."

"Well, cool off, 'cause you have to go to Goodneighbor, and I have to get to know my . . . son."

He nodded and tipped his hat to me. I saw him out and waved him goodbye. On my way back inside the gate, I saw that little boy playing with Sturges' tools. Preston walked over to talk to him. I saw settlers outside their homes, harvesting crops, gardening, lounging in the sun, talking to one another. The world felt a little brighter. And I realized that I had to get used to calling that little boy "Shaun." Because that was his name.

My Shaun.

He came running up to me. "Mom, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Is it true that you blew up the Institute? I was wondering why you'd do that."

I didn't really think about how he would be taking all of this. I wasn't sure if he thought of the Institute as his family. "I know it's hard to understand. Are you okay, Shaun?"

"I mean, I miss them, but if it means everyone else will be safe . . . As long as you don't leave me, it'll be okay. You . . . You're not gonna leave me, right?"

I smiled and mussed his hair. "Don't worry, kiddo. I'm here for you."

"Good! Oh, and before I forget." He searched around in his pocket and pulled out a holotape. He handed it to me. "Father, uhh, he told me to give this to you. I didn't listen to it, so I dunno what it says, but I think it's important."

"Okay. Thanks, Shaun. I'll listen to it when I get a minute."

"MUM!"

I turned to find Codsworth hovering down the sidewalk in a rush to meet me.

"When I had heard that you had awoken, I was absolutely ecstatic! You had me so worried, Miss Nora! You have no idea!"

"It's good to see you, too, Codsworth. I'm sorry I haven't been very social with you lately."

"It's quite understandable, Mum. And congratulations on your feat against the Institute! I am quite proud of you! And it's good to have young Shaun here. It's like we're a family again! I couldn't be happier, Mum!"

"Good. I'm going to need some time to adjust, but . . . I think I can get used to it."

"Absolutely, Mum. No doubt about it. Let me know if you need anything. Anything at all!"

"I will, Codsworth. Thank you."

When he left me by myself, I walked into the house and sat on the couch. I popped this "important tape" into my pip-boy and had a listen.

 _"If you are hearing this, then whatever conflicts you and I have endured are over. I am dying of cancer and won't be able to care for Shaun much longer. I have no reason to believe that you'll honor the request I'm about to make, but I feel compelled to try anyway. This synth, this . . . boy. He deserves more. He has been reprogrammed to believe that he is your son. It is my hope that you will take him with you. I would only ask that you give him a chance. A chance to be a part of whatever future awaits the Commonwealth._

 _"And I believe I owe you an explanation. The Institute kept you alive in the vault for sixty years because if anything were to happen to me, they'd need someone with non-corrupted DNA to make synths, as I had told you before. I'm the one that let you out of that vault. And I'll admit, when I had you released, I had no expectation that you'd survive out there. To not only do so, but manage to find me . . . to infiltrate the Institute itself . . . extraordinary. I suppose I wanted to see what would happen. An experiment, of sorts. I had no idea what kind of person you were. Would the Commonwealth corrupt you as it has everything else? Would you even survive? Perhaps most curious to me, would you after all this time attempt to find me? Now I know the answer. To see that you still cared about me . . . it's remarkable. I can accept that you may be offended. You must understand, though, that I have had no love to feel. We have been strangers until now, you and I._

 _"I hope it was not too presumptuous of me to believe that both you and young Shaun need to feel the love that I never had."_

I leaned back on my couch and went into deep thought. Father, and the entire Institute, thought of all synths from Gen-1 to Gen-3 as machines, no matter if they developed feelings or opinions. What changed Father's mind? Why did he believe that _this_ synth deserved my love? Maybe it was his last gift to me.

There was a knock on the door. I had left the door open, so I told Preston he could come in. He walked over and sat on the couch next to me.

"It's good to see you finally awake."

"I didn't mean to worry everybody."

"It's not your fault. Besides, you needed the rest. And I'm sorry about Hancock, but . . . I had to make the decision."

I sighed. "You did what you felt was necessary for this community. I understand."

"He doesn't exactly have a good reputation, with chems _or_ women. And the way Mama Murphy died – "

" _Or_ women? What are you saying?"

"I'm just saying it would probably be best for all of us if he just stayed in Goodneighbor with his people. He has a duty to uphold there, anyway. Like we have ours."

"Cut the shit, Preston. I know you're basically saying that you think it'd be better if he was away from me."

"I . . . didn't say that."

"But you're thinking it."

He laced his fingers together. "Okay, yes. I believe that it'd be . . . _healthier_ for you if he wasn't around. But that's not the only reason. Mama Murphy died because of him."

"Because of her chem addiction. If we weren't giving her drugs, she would have found a way to get them. Trashcan Carla shows up here once, sometimes twice a week. She'd have just got some from her."

"'We?' You were giving Mama Murphy drugs?"

"Preston, please, can we just change the subject? Me and Hancock are . . . close friends. And nothing is going to change the fact that Mama Murphy has passed away. And nothing was ever going to change the fact that she was obsessed with chems. End of discussion."

He took a long sigh and leaned back on the couch. "Well, in any case, we defeated the biggest enemy of the Commonwealth. That's something to be proud of. Take all the time you need to rest up, General. You know where to find me." He got up and left just as MacCready was walking through the door.

"Knock, knock," he said. He had a bottle of vodka in his hand and two cigars.

"Hey, you."

"Hey, _you_." He took a seat where Preston was and handed me the bottle. "Drink up. You've earned it."

"Don't mind if I do." I took a swig of the vodka. "Damn."

"Yeah, that's the good stuff," he said with a smile. "Just don't drink it all." He put a cigar in his mouth and puffed on it. "So, that fight with the Institute? Best damn thing I've ever done. How was it for you?" I took a cigar from him and had him light it for me. I set it in my mouth, took a puff, and took a moment to think.

"Well . . ."

* * *

I could feel it washing over me. Heat, force, radiation . . . fear. It's the end of the world all over again. I close my eyes, I see my life before all of this. Before the bombs. Everything can change in an instant. Your whole planet can shift whether or not you're ready. It happens to all of us eventually. This was not the world I wanted, but it was the one I found myself in. The Commonwealth. My home. Ripped apart and put back together. I thought that – I hoped that – if I could find my family, I would be whole again. But now I know. I know I can't go back. I know the world has changed, and the road will be hard. This time, I'll be ready. Because I know that war . . .

. . . War never changes.


End file.
